"No; I have not been working lately. Good-by, dear."

The younger woman went; and the elder knelt down by the chair, and wailed
like a little child when you have struck it and it does not dare to cry
loud.

A year after; it was early spring again.

The woman sat at her desk writing; behind her the fire burnt brightly. She
was writing a leading article on the causes which in differing peoples lead
to the adoption of Free Trade or Protectionist principles.

The woman wrote on quickly. After a while the servant entered and laid a
pile of letters on the table. "Tell the boy I shall have done in fifteen
minutes." She wrote on. Then she caught sight of the writing on one of
the letters. She put down her pen, and opened it. It ran so:--

"Dear Friend,--I am writing to you, because I know you will rejoice to hear
of my great happiness. Do you remember how you told me that day by the
fire to wait, and after long, long years I should see that all was for the
best? That time has come sooner than we hoped. Last week in Rome I was
married to the best, noblest, most large-hearted of men. We are now in
Florence together. You don't know how beautiful all life is to me. I know
now that the old passion was only a girl's foolish dream. My husband is
the first man I have ever truly loved. He loves me and understands me as
no other man ever could. I am thankful that my dream was broken; God had
better things in store for me. I don't hate that woman any more; I love
every one! How are you, dear? We shall come and see you as soon as we
arrive in England. I always think of you so happy in your great work and
helping other people. I don't think now it is terrible to be a woman; it