"Don't let us talk about that now, David. It breaks my heart to see you so thin. Your clothes are just hanging on you. Oh! if I had only known the true state of the case and been there to nurse you!"
"Mary has been very good to me, I assure you."
"I don't want to think about that girl any more. I'm glad she's all right, but I hope never to lay eyes on her again."
"Oh, yes, she's all right, and when she marries Dr. Flaker she won't want to 'papa' and 'mamma' us, though she may condescend to patronize us a little."
"I'll be gled o' the day she draps the name o' Gemmell!"
My wife is still a theosophist. If it pleases her to think that she has ascertained the nature and method of existence, I have nothing to say. Sometimes I even look with envy upon her cheerful attitude toward the approach of old age, her conviction that we are to have another chance—many more chances—to do and to be that which we have failed in doing and being, this time.
To judge of a tree by its fruits, there is, of course, no doubt that Isabel, because of, or in spite of her Theosophy, has been
The Making of Mary.
