She gave a little gasp: "No. It's dead. But what is left is—well, it isn't bad, what's left. Sometimes," she said, with sudden sweet gaiety, "sometimes I think it's better than what Howard and Laura have!"
"No, it isn't," he said, sadly.
"I wonder," she pondered, "if I could have been ... like Laura? She hasn't a thought except for the baby and Howard. They are the center of Life to her;—which is all right, I suppose. But they are its circumference, too; which seems to me dreadfully cramping. I never could be like that."
He smiled, in spite of himself. "Nature is a pretty big thing, Fred; when you hold your own child in your arms—" he stopped short. "Life is bigger than theories," he said, in a low voice.
She nodded: "I know what you mean. But I never could be a fool, Arthur."
"I think," he said, and again something in his voice made her catch her breath; "I think you could be,—at moments."
"Better not count on it," she said; "but if you want me, in spite of my 'arid' head,—you can take me! Of course, just for a minute, when I wrung it from you that you—cared, I was rather stunned, because I didn't believe Miss Eliza knew. But on the whole, I think—I'd like it." She smiled at him, and her eyes brimmed with affection. "You see, we're friends; and you never bore me. Howard would have bored me awfully. So—I will marry you, Arthur."
He was silent. "Rather hard," she said, mischievously, "to have to offer myself tw—"
"Stop!" he said; "don't say things like that!"
"Well, then—" she began; but he lifted a silencing hand: