would fade like a receding star. She would soon find her that her
only choice must be to make new associations and friendships and
find new pleasures; and this her mercurial, frank, and fearless
nature would incline her to do very promptly.

With Mildred it was different. The old life was almost essential
to her, and it contained everything that her heart most craved.

Her courage was not Belle's natural and uncalculating intrepidity.
She would go wherever duty required her presence, she would sacrifice
herself for those she loved, and she was capable of martyrdom for
a faith about as free from doctrinal abstractions as the simple
allegiance of the sisters of Bethany to the Christ who "loved"
them. Notwithstanding the truth of all this, it has already been
shown that she was a very human girl. Brave and resolute she could
be, but she would tremble and escape if possible. Especially would
she shrink from anything tending to wound her womanly delicacy and
a certain trace of sensitive Southern pride. Above all things she
shrank from that which threatened her love. This was now her life,
and its absorbing power colored all her thoughts and plans. Both
conscience and reason, however, convinced her that Belle was right,
and that the only chance for the vigorous, growing girl was some
phase of active life. With her very limited attainments, standing
behind a counter seemed the only opening that the family would
consider, and it was eventually agreed upon, after a very reluctant
consent from her father.