"
Ida bent her head still lower and said nothing. It was Miss Ludington who
spoke.
"You have no ground to feel so," she said. "I can bear her witness--and
what better witness could you have?--that till now she never knew what it
is to love. It is true she sat here then as now, and there were others at
her feet, drawn by the same beauty that has drawn you, but their voices
never touched her heart. She had to come back again to earth to learn
what love is."
Paul bent contritely, and kissed Ida's feet as she sat above him,
murmuring, "Forgive me!" Her hand sought his and pressed it with
convulsive strength.
They walked home in silence, gentle Miss Ludington inwardly reproaching
herself for the embarrassment her words had seemed to cause Ida. She
examined her memory afresh. It was very long ago; she was growing old,
and it was natural to suppose that her memory might be losing in
distinctness. Perhaps some, of the sweethearts of that far away time had
been a little nearer, a little dearer, to Ida than to her own fading
memory they seemed to have been.
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