There did not seem
any room for humanity, with its varying moods, in her outlook; and
yet Howard had the grace to be ashamed of his own sullen
dreariness, which certainly did not appear to lend any dignity to
life. But he had not the heart to spoil the little lady's pleasure,
and engaged in small talk upon moderately abstract topics with
courteous industry. "Of course," said his companion confidingly,
"all that I do is on a very small scale, but I think that the
quality of it is what matters--the quality of one's ideal, I mean."
Howard murmuringly assented. "I have sometimes even wished," she
went on, "that I had some real trouble of my own--that seems
foolish to you, no doubt, because my life is such an easy one--but
I do feel that my happiness rather cuts me off from other people--
and I don't want to be cut off from other people; I desire to know
how and why they suffer."
"Ah," said Howard, "while you feel that, it is all right; but the
worst of real suffering is, I believe, that it is apt to be
entirely dreary--it is not at all romantic, as it seems from the
outside; indeed it is the loss of all that sense of excitement
which makes suffering what it is. But really I have no right to
speak either, for I have had a very happy life too."
Miss Merry heard him moist-eyed and intent. "Yes, I am sure that is
true!" she said. "I suppose we all have just as much as we can use--
just as much as it is good for us to have.
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