marriage was
not happy. Mr. Littleton was an earnest, talented man, and devoted to
me. Yet I cannot deny that in spite of mutual love our married life was
not a success--a success as a contribution to accomplishment. That
nearly broke my heart, and he--he died from lack of the physical and
mental vigor which would have made so much difference. I am telling you
this because I wish you to realize that if I should consent to comply
with your wishes, it would be because I was convinced that true
accomplishment--the highest accomplishment--would result from the union
of our lives as the result of our riper experience. If I did not
believe, Mr. Lyons, that man and woman as we are--no longer boy and
girl--a more perfect scheme of happiness, a grander conception of the
meaning of life than either of us had entertained was before us, I would
not consider your offer for one moment."

"Yes, yes, I understand," Lyons exclaimed eagerly. "I share your belief
implicitly. It was what I would have said only--"

Despite his facility as an orator, Lyons left this sentence incomplete
in face of the ticklish difficulty of explaining that he had refrained
from suggesting such a hope to a widow who had lost her husband only two
years before. Yet he hastened to bridge over this ellipsis by saying,
"Without such a faith a union between us must fall short of its sweetest
and grandest opportunities."

"It would be a mockery; there would be no excuse for its existence,"
cried Selma impetuously. "I am an idealist, Mr. Lyons," she said
clasping her hands. "I believe devotedly in the mission and power of
love. But I believe that our conception of love changes as we grow. I
welcomed love formerly as an intoxicating, delirious potion, and as such
it was very sweet. You have just told me of your own feelings toward me,
so it is your right to know that lately I have begun to realize that my
association with you has brought peace into my life--peace and religious
faith--essentials of happiness of which I have not known the blessings
since I was a child. You have dedicated yourself to a lofty work; you
have chosen the noble career of a statesman--a statesman zealous to
promote principles in which we both believe. And you ask me to share
with you the labors and the privileges which will result from this
dedication. If I accept your offer, it must be because I know that I
love you--love you in a sense I have not loved before--may the dead
pardon me! If I