“Her face rather gives you that impression. But she looks happy enough now—or at least content.”
“It would be a great thing to feel content.”
“A great thing, indeed; to know no longer the restless craving for something we can not obtain.”
“And—and do you think—” began May, and then she paused, hesitated, and slightly colored.
“Do I think what?” said Webster, and he turned round his head and looked at her.
“Do you think we could ever feel happy again—after a great blow, a great shock?”
“I think we could feel happy, but not the same happiness. A sort of sobered, perhaps, a wiser happiness, no doubt, might come to us.”
“It’s dangerous to be too happy,” said May, with downcast eyes and quivering lips.
“Not many of us have the chance of being so,” answered Webster, rising. “But, come, we must not keep Sister Margaret waiting.”