“ Hildegarde went on rapidly. "Though you possess all that makes life worth living, you have not jarred on me with your wealth. You have not tried to comfort me with the truism that there are others more suffering than I—such a poor sort of comfort, isn't it? As though it made me happy to think that more suffering was possible—inevitable! When I am ill, I like to think that I am the exception—that the great law of life is happiness. And you are life and happiness personified, Nora, and so I love you. I love you so that I grudge you nothing—shall never grudge you anything. ”

“ Wolff, how should I be? how could I be?"
"All too easily—sometimes I think inevitably. I am not blind, Nora. I see how petty and small your life must be compared to what you perhaps thought—to what might have been. The people you meet are accustomed to it all—at least they have learnt to make the best of what little they have; but you have come from another world and another life. You are accustomed to breadth and light and freedom. You have never known this brilliant poverty which we know so well, and it is hard on you—too hard on you. ”

“ She saw only in the sad eyes the same appeal that had met her on the first evening, "Be pitiful!" and, obeying an irresistible impulse, she put her arms about Frau von Arnim's neck in an outburst of conflicting feeling.
"I do understand!" she cried brokenly. "And I am so dreadfully sorry. I would do anything to help her—to make her happy!"
"I know you would, dear Nora; but that is not in your power or mine. She must learn happiness out of herself, as soon or late we all must do. We can only wait and be patient." ”

“ In those hours when Nora had hated the stuffy little flat and had longed for the scent of the home flowers, it had always been of her mother's garden which she had thought; when she had seen the picture of the Vicarage rise before her eyes it had always been her mother's room which had stood out clearest, which had tempted her by the tenderest recollections. And now that her mother had gone, that home had ceased to be her home. The flowers were dead in the garden, the rooms empty of the old haunting charm, the glamour which her exile's memory had cast about her old life became dull and faded. ”

“ Seleneck sighed.
"Oh, you ambitious, successful fellows!" he said with a lugubrious tug at his moustache. "You talk as scornfully of 'getting through life without success' as though it were a crime. Look at me—grey hairs already, a family man, and still nothing more than a blundering old captain, who will be thankful it he is allowed at the end to retire with a major's pension. I am one of your drones—a parasite, if you like, and certainly a failure, but Heaven knows it is not my wish."
"You are no more a failure than the best of us," Wolff von Arnim answered vigorously. ”

“ All the hatred and cruelty had gone. She held out her hands to Nora in desperate, almost humble, pleading.
Nora stood rigid, staring in front of her with blank, terrible eyes.
"He is dying!" she said under her breath. "He thinks I was so cruel and wicked! Oh, Wolff!"
"When he is asleep he calls your name," Hildegarde went on, "and once he was half delirious, and he told me that you were not to worry—that he was going to die—he wanted to die. And it is true: he wants to die. He has lost everything—everything. That is why I have come—to bring him back at least his honour. Oh, Nora, help me! ”

“ I know—you cannot hide it from me—that you and all the rest blame her. She is not to be blamed because she married a man not of her own people. She is to be profoundly pitied. That is all, and it explains everything."
"You talk as though you were certain of the worst," Seleneck said. "But if everything goes well—what then?"
The compasses slipped from Wolff's fingers.
"God knows!" he said.
It was no exclamation of despair, rather a reverent surrender of a life which he could no longer shape alone, and Seleneck turned aside, more deeply moved than he cared to show. ”

“ What was the childish regret at parting, the casual affection for an old comrade, blown to a warmer glow by the first harsh winds of exile, compared to this—this wonderful Thing which in an instant had revealed to her the possibility of a union where the loneliness, conscious or unconscious, surrounding each individual life is bridged and the barriers between mind and mind, heart and heart, are burnt down by the flames of a pure and noble passion? Poor Arnold! It was well for him that he could not know what was passing in Nora's mind nor see her face as she gazed into the fire. ”

“ Nora could not but be impressed by the tall, finely built men, with the strong-cut, bronzed faces, and in each she saw a dim reflection of her husband. There was perhaps no real resemblance, but they were of one type—they were German, and that one similarity aroused in her the old feeling of wild opposition against the man she loved, and whom she had sworn to stand by to the end. Her love for him was as genuine as her admiration for these, his brothers—as genuine as her hatred for him and for them all. ”

“ I am happier—far happier now than in the time when I knew that, crippled though I was, Wolff would have married me, that I had only to stretch out my hand, as it were, for him to take it. It was so hard not to stretch out my hand; I had to crush down my love for him, and throw scorn on myself for daring to love at all. Every day I was afraid that I might betray myself. Now it is different. I can love him openly and honestly as my brother, and Nora I can love too without bitterness or envy as the one woman who could make him happy, or who was worthy of him. ”

“ The tears burned Nora's eyes. Every word that fell from the delirious lips struck a deeper, more fatal blow at her own happiness, yet she could not have fled, could not have stopped her ears against their message.
"You must work hard, Wolff," the voice went on, sunk to a sudden gentleness. "Perhaps one day you will do something wonderful—something that will help to make us the greatest country in the world. How proud we shall be of you! I am proud already! Steady, Bruno! How wild you are this morning! One last gallop! Oh, Wolff, don't look like that! It is nothing—nothing at all! ”

“ Nora said. "There is no purpose in calling on people whom I do not want to know. I told Wolff so."
"Ah, you have told your husband! And what did he say?"
Nora hesitated. She remembered now that Wolff had looked troubled, and the remembrance caused her a sudden uneasiness.
"He said I could do as I liked," she said slowly.
"Ah, the young husbands!" Frau von Seleneck threw up her hands. "What folly! It must not be. You must call on the Mayos—on everybody. You must not show that you hate or that you love. You must be the same to all—gracious, smiling—though you may want to scratch their eyes out. ”

“ Nora made a gesture of mingled impatience and despair.
"Why must there be war?" she cried. "Why can't we leave each other alone? What is there to quarrel about?"
"Nothing!" Miles retorted. "The whole thing is got up. The beggars want more than is good for them, and we've got to keep them in their places. That's the gist of the matter. It has to come sooner or later."
Nora was silent. His words, with their unvaried mingling of scorn and pride, aroused in her an equally mingled feeling of irritation and sympathy. Why was he so sure of victory, why so scornful of "these foreigners"? ”

“ Don't let Delford or—or even us make your standard. Keep the past and those that love you, but don't let them hem you—don't let them stand between you and the future. Show your new world a big, generous, open heart, and it will open a heart as big and generous to you. Be arrogant and petty, and everything about you will reflect yourself. Oh, Nora, I am not preaching; a narrow heart is a curse to others and to itself."
There was a peculiar emphasis in her words, a note in her voice so like despair that it rang long afterwards in Nora's memory. ”

“ Ingestre nodded to herself.
"They count most with all normal people," she said; "and those who govern their lives by their heads are not, as a rule, either the happiest or the cleverest. Still, Nora, is it such a sacrifice?"
"Yes."
"Is the music so dear to you that it is the only thing which makes life worth living?"
Nora did not answer, and with a firm, gentle hand Mrs. Ingestre tilted her daughter's head backwards, so that she could look straight into the overcast grey eyes. A very faint smile played about the corners of her own mouth. ”

“ Ingestre, dying though she was, called back her lost youth and rose to the heights of youth's hope and faith.
Nora took a deep breath.
"What can I do—a woman against thousands?" she demanded.
"Your best—your duty."
"I have tried, and I have failed. I have no power to build the bridge——"
Her mother's eyes rested on her face, and in their depths there was a serene confidence.
"God has given you the power," she said gently. "God has given you an instrument which cannot fail you. My Nora"—her voice failed her an instant—"a little child shall lead them"—she finished from afar off. ”

“ But, Nora, a man's love is not only a selfish desire for possession. If he loves truly, he puts into that love something of himself which is a vital part of his life and being—his ideals and his whole trust. I suffered—not only because I had lost you, but because I had lost my faith in every one. You seemed so good and true, Nora. I felt I could never trust another woman again. That was unbearable. For my own sake I had to come and ask you—if you could explain. ”