"But, Diane dear," Mrs. Eveleth interrupted, gently, "isn't it true that
we owe it to George's memory to bear our troubles bravely?"

"I'm ready to bear anything bravely--but this."

"But isn't this the case, above all others, in which you and I should be
unflinching? Doesn't any lack of courage on our parts imply a reflection
on him?"

"That's true," Diane said, stopping abruptly.

"I don't know how far you honor George's memory--?"

"George's memory? Why shouldn't I honor it?"

"I didn't know. Some women--after what you've just discovered--"

"I am not--some women! I am Diane Eveleth. Whatever George did I shared
it, and I share it still."

"Then you forgive him?"

"Forgive him?--I?--forgive him? No! What have I to forgive? Anything he
did he did for me and in order to have the more to give me--and I love
him and honor him as I never did till now."

Mrs. Eveleth rose and stood unsteadily beside her desk.

"God bless you for saying that, Diane."