in life now than I did at sixteen. If I live to be
seventy, or a hundred, I shall be the same Frances Wal-
deaux still."

Clara gave an annoyed shrug. "But really, _I_ make the
thought of death my constant companion. And you are
older than I."


"`After the busy day
Comes the calm sleep of night,'"


she quoted, with a sententious sigh.

"Calm and sleep do not appear to me to be the highest
conditions of life. No! I will not be set aside, even
when I am dead, like a burned-out candle!" The
indignant tears stood in her eyes. "Why, even in that
other world I shall not be a barren stock, thank God! I
have given a family to mankind. To watch a long line of
your descendants at work, to see in them your own
thoughts and your own soul reaching out, live powers
through all eternity--I often think of it. That will
be--not calm nor sleep."

Miss Vance touched Mrs. Waldeaux's arm affectionately.
"What a queer idea, Frances. Well, I never argue, you
know. Drop in the harness, if you choose. Let us go in
now. It is chilly."