'" Over my burning
cheeks a few bitter tears were falling, while a mad desire seized me to
leave Oaklands, and the cold, selfish life it imposed, and try in some
purer air to live as conscience urged. I walked to the farthest end of
the long room without waiting for Mrs. Flaxman's reply, and stood looking
out into the bright moonlit air. Far away I could see the moonbeams
dimpling on the waters, making a long, shimmering pathway to the distant
horizon, while in the frosty sky a few bold stars were shining, scarce
dimmed by the moon's brightness. The thought came to me that, in a few
weeks, Mr. Bowen might be thrilled by just such a vision of delight. I
turned abruptly to tell Mrs. Flaxman I could never go back to the old
life of selfish ease, when such opportunities for helpfulness were given
me, when I met her face to face. She gave me a look I will never forget.
"Medoline, can you forgive me those unjust suspicions?"
"Yes, if you won't interfere with my picture selling," I said joyously.
"Hush! Mr. Winthrop may hear you. I think he is coming. But you may sell
all the pictures you can, only don't speak of it now."
Mr. Winthrop was waiting for us. As he looked at me he said:--"You seem
to have more mental sunshine than your share--your face is so bright.
Possibly you have been having a specially happy season with your bereaved
ones."
"With one of them I have been more than happy."
"May I ask the name of this favored individual?"
"It is Mr.
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