"I don't know that she'll ever marry," said Lily. "She'll not, unless she finds some one alike to strengthen and be strengthened by. A lot of the reasons for which women used to marry are out of court with her. Even what we call love—she won't feel it now for anything less than something that matches her."
Fay walked across the floor, stood at the window a moment, then came back. "I won't fence," he said. "It's simple truth, however you divined it. And I'm going to stay. I don't match her, but I've never proposed to stop growing."
CHAPTER XXXII
RALPH
Fay stayed. Lily's farewell note to Hagar merely said that after all he was not sailing with her and that she hoped Hagar would let him be among her friends. He made a good friend. Fay himself wrote to her, stating that he would be much in New York that autumn and winter and asking if he might come to see her. She answered yes, but that she herself was often away; he would have to take the chance of not finding her. He came, and she was away, came again, and she was away; then she wrote and asked him to dine with her on such an evening. He went, and it was an evening to mark with a white stone, to keep a lamp burning before in the mind. He asked how he could find out where she would be, since it was evident that she was speaking here and there. She nodded; she was working hard that autumn, oftenest in company with Rose Darragh, but often, too, with Elizabeth Eden and Marie Caton, with Rachel and Molly Josslyn. She showed him a list of meetings.
He thanked her and copied it down. "I see that your book will presently be out."
"Yes. I hope that you will like it."
"I think that I shall. How hard you work!"