I don't know what it might have been, for she never said it, but she bent down and laid her cheek against mine for a moment, and drew my head around, searching my eyes.
"I don't know whether I was right or wrong, but I said: 'There is no one to compare with you, Shiela, in your new incarnation of health and youth.

I never before knew you; I don't think you ever before knew yourself.' "'Not entirely,' she said.
"'Do you now ?' "'I think so....

May I ask you something ?' "I nodded, smiling.
"'Then--there is only one thing I care for now--to'-- she looked up toward the house--'to make them contented--to make up to them what I can for--for all that I failed in.

Do you understand ?' "'Yes,' I said, 'you sweet thing.' And gave her a little hug, adding: 'And that's why I'm going to write a letter to-night--at your mother's desire--and my own.' "She said nothing more; my chair rolled away; and here's the letter that I told her I meant to write.
"'Now, dear, come if you think best.

I don't know of any reason why you should not come; if you know of any you must act on your own responsibility.' "Last winter, believing that she cared for you, I did an extraordinary thing--in fact I intimated to her that it was agreeable for me to believe you cared for each other.