Overwhelming that one who had wished to kill one's self should be enjoying anything! That a door so tragically shut should open to so simple a knock! Mere human voice reach that incomprehensible outermost brink! Were they not people different, but just people like one's self, who had simply fallen down in the struggle, and only needed some one to help them up, give them a cool drink and chance for a moment's rest?
_Were_ the big and the little things so close?
One's own kind and the other kind just one kind, after all?
"I love winding roads," Katie was saying, after a long silence.

"I suppose the thing so alluring about them is that one can never be sure just what is around the bend.

When I was a little girl I used to pretend it was fairies waiting around the next curve, and I have never--" But she drew in her horse sharply, for the moment at a loss; for it was not fairies, but Captain Prescott, riding smilingly toward them, very handsome on his fine mount.
"It's--one of our officers," she said sharply.

"I--I'll have to present him." "Oh please--_please_!" was the girl's panic-stricken whisper.

"Let me get out! I must! I can't!" "You _can_.