"Life is what we make it."
"Who told you that?"
She flushed. "It is what I tell my school children."
"But have you found it so?"
She faltered. "No—but perhaps it is my fault."
"It isn't anybody's fault. If the gods smile—we are happy. If they frown, we are miserable. That's all there is to it."
"I should hate to think that was all." She was roused and ready to fight for her ideals. "I should hate to think it."
"All your hating won't make it as you want it," his glance was quizzical, "but we won't quarrel about it."
"Of course not," stiffly.
"And we are to be friends? You see I am to stay a month."