answered with hauteur. "But you might have known me better. I admire
the man and sympathize with him. All the things I dream of are the
things he is working for. I can do more good by helping and inspiring
him"--she wished she had not let slip that word "inspire." She knew that
Flossie would fasten upon it--"than I can ever accomplish by myself. And
I mean to do it." She really did feel defiant, now.

"I know, dear," agreed Flossie, "you've both of you made up your minds it
shall always remain a beautiful union of twin spirits. Unfortunately
you've both got bodies--rather attractive bodies."

"We'll keep it off that plane, if you don't mind," answered Joan with a
touch of severity.

"I'm willing enough," answered Flossie. "But what about Old Mother
Nature? She's going to be in this, you know."

"Take off your glasses, and look at it straight," she went on, without
giving Joan time to reply. "What is it in us that 'inspires' men? If
it's only advice and sympathy he's after, what's wrong with dear old Mrs.
Denton? She's a good walker, except now and then, when she's got the
lumbago. Why doesn't he get her to 'inspire' him?"

"It isn't only that," explained Joan. "I give him courage. I always did
have more of that than is any use to a woman. He wants to be worthy of
my belief in him. What is the harm if he does admire me--if a smile from
me or a touch of the hand can urge him to fresh effort? Suppose he does
love me--"

Flossie interrupted. "How about being quite frank?" she suggested.
"Suppose we do love one another. How about putting it that way?"

"And suppose we do?" agreed Joan, her courage rising. "Why should we
shun one another, as if we were both of us incapable of decency or self-
control? Why must love be always assumed to make us weak and
contemptible, as if it were some subtle poison? Why shouldn't it
strengthen and ennoble us?"

"Why did the apple fall?" answered Flossie. "Why, when it escapes from
its bonds, doesn't it soar upward? If it wasn't for the irritating law
of gravity, we could skip about on the brink of precipices without
danger. Things being what they are, sensible people keep as far away
from the edge as possible."

"I'm sorry," she continued; "awfully sorry, old girl. It's a bit of
rotten bad luck for both of you. You were just made for one another. And
Fate, knowing what was coming, bustles round and gets hold of poor, silly
Mrs. Phillips so as to be abl