Hitherto the world had ambled along in an amiable way; and now it

suddenly turned and delivered a blow in the face. Every one is destined

to receive such blows, some get little else. But the test comes in the

way they are received. You may use belladonna as a poison, or you may

use it to help the blind to see. So when pain comes, you may take it to

your bosom and suckle it till it becomes a fine healthy child, too heavy

for you to carry; or cast out the changeling and leave it on the

doorstep to die. It matters little how much anguish skulks about the

outside of life, so long as it finds no lodgment in the sacred shrines

of the heart. Madeline met her first grief and fought it off; and, even

while she thought it had given her a mortal wound, came the revelation

of the powerlessness of the poor thing. She put her arms down on the

window-sill to cry deliberately, but something dried her tears.

"I couldn't put that look in Dick's face, but could he put it in mine?

Was this taking of things for granted the best love of which I am

capable? I've found out to-day that there are all kinds of things in me

that I have never dreamed of before, and passion is one of them, and

rebellion. Great heavens! I might have married him and been serene and

never found things out."

She seemed to be looking at a new Madeline; and while she stared,

startled, this self grew greater and stronger.

"This is not the end of life; it is the beginning," she whispered. "I've

been looking down the wrong road. Dick has no such power over me as to

consign me to misery everlasting. I am mistress of my own fate. I have

not handed it over to him. Happiness is not a thing to get. It is a

state of mind to live in. It is my own affair, not that of others." She

rested her chin in her hands and fell into a girl's day-dream, in which

the nightmare was forgotten.

Twilight fell at last, and faint sounds came up to her to remind her

that down stairs there were well-beloved people who did not know and

should never know of her little vigil. Her father must be coming home.

It was time for her to put on her armor and go down. Armor is one of the

necessities of life. If we can't wear it in steel plates on the outside,

we must mask the face with impenetrability and the manner with pretense.

Never let the heart be vulnerable. Yet, try as we may, something of our

weakness is laid bare. Hereafter Miss Elton might be serene, but would

never again be placid.




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