"You are very kind, Graydon. You have been a true brother to me from
the time you tried to cheer and encourage the pale, frightened little
girl that sat opposite you at the dinner-table. Don't you remember?"

"Of course I do. It seemed so droll to me that you were afraid when
there was nothing to be afraid of."

"My fear was natural. Little as I know of the world, I know that--at
least for one like me. It may seem weak and silly to you, but, brought
up as I had been, I was morbidly sensitive. You might have meant to
be kind and sympathetic and all that, and yet have hurt me cruelly.
I have been out with you enough to know how I am regarded. I don't
complain. I suppose it is the way of the world, but it has not been
your way. You have brought sunshine from the first, not from a sense
of duty, not out of sheer humiliating pity, but because it was the
impulse of your strength to help and cheer one who was so weak, and
if--if--anything--Well, I want you to know before you go away that I
appreciate it all and shall never forget it."

"Oh, come, Madge, don't talk so dismally. What do you mean by
'if--if--anything'? You are going to get strong and well, and we will
open the campaign together next fall."

She shook her head, but asked, lightly, "How will Miss Wildmere endure
your absence?"

"Easier than you, I imagine. She knows how to console herself. Still,
as my little sister, I will tell you in confidence that she was very
kind in our parting interview. How much her kindness meant only she
herself knows, and I've been in society long enough to know that it