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Dream Life and Real Life ...................................................................................................................................1

Olive Schreiner........................................................................................................................................1

For whose little school magazine the first of these tiny storiesone of the first I ever madewas written out

Kopjes In the karoo, are hillocks of stones, that rise up singly or in clusters, here and there; presenting

sometimes the fantastic appearance of old ruined castles or giant graves, the work of human hands. Kraal A

sheepfold. Krantz A precipice. Sluit A deep fissure, generally dry, in which the superfluous torrents of

Little Jannita sat alone beside a milkbush. Before her and behind her stretched the plain, covered with red

sand and thorny karoo bushes; and here and there a milkbush, looking like a bundle of pale green rods tied

together. Not a tree was to be seen anywhere, except on the banks of the river, and that was far away, and the

sun beat on her head. Round her fed the Angora goats she was herding; pretty things, especially the little

ones, with white silky curls that touched the ground. But Jannita sat crying. If an angel should gather up in

his cup all the tears that have been shed, I think the bitterest would be those of children.

By and by she was so tired, and the sun was so hot, she laid her head against the milkbush, and dropped

She dreamed a beautiful dream. She thought that when she went back to the farmhouse in the evening, the

walls were covered with vines and roses, and the kraals were not made of red stone, but of lilac trees full of

blossom. And the fat old Boer smiled at her; and the stick he held across the door, for the goats to jump over,

was a lily rod with seven blossoms at the end. When she went to the house her mistress gave her a whole

roastercake for her supper, and the mistress's daughter had stuck a rose in the cake; and her mistress's

soninlaw said, "Thank you!" when she pulled off his boots, and did not kick her.

While she lay thus dreaming, one of the little kids came and licked her on her cheek, because of the salt from

her driedup tears. And in her dream she was not a poor indentured child any more, living with Boers. It was

her father who kissed her. He said he had only been asleepthat day when he lay down under the

thornbush; he had not really died. He felt her hair, and said it was grown long and silky, and he said they

would go back to Denmark now. He asked her why her feet were bare, and what the marks on her back were.

Then he put her head on his shoulder, and picked her up, and carried her away, away! She laughedshe

As she lay there dreaming, with the ants running over her naked feet, and with her brown curls lying in the

sand, a Hottentot came up to her. He was dressed in ragged yellow trousers, and a dirty shirt, and torn jacket.

He had a red handkerchief round his head, and a felt hat above that. His nose was flat, his eyes like slits, and

the wool on his head was gathered into little round balls. He came to the milkbush, and looked at the little

girl lying in the hot sun. Then he walked off, and caught one of the fattest little Angora goats, and held its

mouth fast, as he stuck it under his arm. He looked back to see that she was still sleeping, and jumped down

into one of the sluits. He walked down the bed of the sluit a little way and came to an overhanging bank,

under which, sitting on the red sand, were two men. One was a tiny, ragged, old bushman, four feet high; the

other was an English navvy, in a dark blue blouse. They cut the kid's throat with the navvy's long knife, and

covered up the blood with sand, and buried the entrails and skin. Then they talked, and quarrelled a little; and

The Hottentot man put a leg of the kid under his coat and left the rest of the meat for the two in the sluit, and

When little Jannita awoke it was almost sunset. She sat up very frightened, but her goats were all about her.

Dirk, the Hottentot, had brought his flock home already, and stood at the kraal door with his ragged yellow

trousers. The fat old Boer put his stick across the door, and let Jannita's goats jump over, one by one. He

counted them. When the last jumped over: "Have you been to sleep today?" he said; "there is one missing."

Then little Jannita knew what was coming, and she said, in a low voice, "No." And then she felt in her heart

that deadly sickness that you feel when you tell a lie; and again she said, "Yes."

The little girl crept to the door of the outhouse where she slept, and looked at it. When you are hungry, and

very, very sore, you do not cry. She leaned her chin on one hand, and looked, with her great dove's eyes

the other hand was cut open, so she wrapped it in her pinafore. She looked across the plain at the sand and the

Presently, there came slowly, from far away, a wild springbuck. It came close to the house, and stood looking

at it in wonder, while the moonlight glinted on its horns, and in its great eyes. It stood wondering at the red

brick walls, and the girl watched it. Then, suddenly, as if it scorned it all, it curved its beautiful back and

turned; and away it fled over the bushes and sand, like a sheeny streak of white lightning. She stood up to

watch it. So free, so free! Away, away! She watched, till she could see it no more on the wide plain.

Her heart swelled, larger, larger, larger: she uttered a low cry; and without waiting, pausing, thinking, she

When at last her legs began to tremble under her, and she stopped to breathe, the house was a speck behind

If she stayed on the plain they would trace her footsteps in the morning and catch her; but if she waded in the

water in the bed of the river they would not be able to find her footmarks; and she would hide, there where

So she stood up and walked towards the river. The water in the river was low; just a line of silver in the broad

bed of sand, here and there broadening into a pool. She stepped into it, and bathed her feet in the delicious

cold water. Up and up the stream she walked, where it rattled over the pebbles, and past where the farmhouse

lay; and where the rocks were large she leaped from one to the other. The night wind in her face made her

strongshe laughed. She had never felt such night wind before. So the night smells to the wild bucks,

At last she came to a place where the willows grew on each side of the river, and trailed their long branches

on the sandy bed. She could not tell why, she could not tell the reason, but a feeling of fear came over her.

On the left bank rose a chain of kopjes and a precipice of rocks. Between the precipice and the river bank

there was a narrow path covered by the fragments of fallen rock. And upon the summit of the precipice a

kippersol tree grew, whose palmlike leaves were clearly cut out against the night sky. The rocks cast a deep

shadow, and the willow trees, on either side of the river. She paused, looked up and about her, and then ran

"What was I afraid of? How foolish I have been!" she said, when she came to a place where the trees were

At last her steps grew wearier and wearier. She was very sleepy now, she could scarcely lift her feet. She

stepped out of the riverbed. She only saw that the rocks about her were wild, as though many little kopjes

had been broken up and strewn upon the ground, lay down at the foot of an aloe, and fell asleep.

But, in the morning, she saw what a glorious place it was. The rocks were piled on one another, and tossed

this way and that. Prickly pears grew among them, and there were no less than six kippersol trees scattered

here and there among the broken kopjes. In the rocks there were hundreds of homes for the conies, and from

the crevices wild asparagus hung down. She ran to the river, bathed in the clear cold water, and tossed it over

her head. She sang aloud. All the songs she knew were sad, so she could not sing them now, she was glad,

she was so free; but she sang the notes without the words, as the cockoveets do. Singing and jumping all

the way, she went back, and took a sharp stone, and cut at the root of a kippersol, and got out a large piece, as

long as her arm, and sat to chew it. Two conies came out on the rock above her head and peeped at her. She

It was very delicious to her. Kippersol is like raw quince, when it is very green; but she liked it. When good

food is thrown at you by other people, strange to say, it is very bitter; but whatever you find yourself is sweet!

When she had finished she dug out another piece, and went to look for a pantry to put it in. At the top of a

heap of rocks up which she clambered she found that some large stones stood apart but met at the top, making

At the top and all round it was closed, only in the front it was open. There was a beautiful shelf in the wall for

the kippersol, and she scrambled down again. She brought a great bunch of prickly pear, and stuck it in a

crevice before the door, and hung wild asparagus over it, till it looked as though it grew there. No one could

see that there was a room there, for she left only a tiny opening, and hung a branch of feathery asparagus over

it. Then she crept in to see how it looked. There was a glorious soft green light. Then she went out and picked

some of those purple little ground flowersyou know themthose that keep their faces close to the ground,

but when you turn them up and look at them they are deep blue eyes looking into yours! She took them with a

little earth, and put them in the crevices between the rocks; and so the room was quite furnished. Afterwards

she went down to the river and brought her arms full of willow, and made a lovely bed; and, because the

She went to sleep soon, and slept long, for she was very weak. Late in the afternoon she was awakened by a

few cold drops falling on her face. She sat up. A great and fierce thunderstorm had been raging, and a few of

the cool drops had fallen through the crevice in the rocks. She pushed the asparagus branch aside, and looked

out, with her little hands folded about her knees. She heard the thunder rolling, and saw the red torrents rush

among the stones on their way to the river. She heard the roar of the river as it now rolled, angry and red,

bearing away stumps and trees on its muddy water. She listened and smiled, and pressed closer to the rock

that took care of her. She pressed the palm of her hand against it. When you have no one to love you, you

love the dumb things very much. When the sun set, it cleared up. Then the little girl ate some kippersol, and

lay down again to sleep. She thought there was nothing so nice as to sleep. When one has had no food but

"It is so nice here," she thought as she went to sleep, "I will stay here always."

Afterwards the moon rose. The sky was very clear now, there was not a cloud anywhere; and the moon shone

in through the bushes in the door, and made a latticework of light on her face. She was dreaming a beautiful

dream. The loveliest dreams of all are dreamed when you are hungry. She thought she was walking in a

beautiful place, holding her father's hand, and they both had crowns on their heads, crowns of wild asparagus.

The people whom they passed smiled and kissed her; some gave her flowers, and some gave her food, and the

sunlight was everywhere. She dreamed the same dream over and over, and it grew more and more beautiful;

till, suddenly, it seemed as though she were standing quite alone. She looked up: on one side of her was the

high precipice, on the other was the river, with the willow trees, drooping their branches into the water; and

the moonlight was over all. Up, against the night sky the pointed leaves of the kippersol trees were clearly

"Ah, I am not there, I am here," she said; and she crept closer to the rock, and kissed it, and went to sleep

It must have been about three o'clock, for the moon had begun to sink towards the western sky, when she

"What can it be? A cony must surely have run across my feet and frightened me!" she said, and she turned to

lie down again; but soon she sat up. Outside, there was the distinct sound of thorns crackling in a fire.

A large fire was blazing in the shadow, at the foot of the rocks. A little Bushman sat over some burning coals

that had been raked from it, cooking meat. Stretched on the ground was an Englishman, dressed in a blouse,

and with a heavy, sullen face. On the stone beside him was Dirk, the Hottentot, sharpening a bowie knife.

"They can never find me here," she said; and she knelt, and listened to every word they said. She could hear it

"You may have all the money," said the Bushman; "but I want the cask of brandy. I will set the roof alight in

six places, for a Dutchman burnt my mother once alive in a hut, with three children."

"No, I have told you till I am tired," said Dirk; "The two Kaffirs have gone with the son to town; and the

"But suppose," said the navvy, "he should have the gun at his bedside, and loaded!"

"He never has," said Dirk; "it hangs in the passage, and the cartridges too. He never thought when he bought

it what work it was for! I only wish the little white girl was there still," said Dirk; "but she is drowned. We

Afterwards, the little Bushman, who crouched over the fire, sat up suddenly, listening.

A Bushman is like a dog: his ear is so fine he knows a jackal's tread from a wild dog's.

"No cony, no cony," said the Bushman; "see, what is that there moving in the shade round the point?"

There were two roads to the homestead. One went along the open plain, and was by far the shortest; but you

might be seen half a mile off. The other ran along the river bank, where there were rocks, and holes, and

The river was swollen by the storm full to its banks, and the willow trees dipped their halfdrowned branches

into its water. Wherever there was a gap between them, you could see it flow, red and muddy, with the

stumps upon it. But the little figure ran on and on; never looking, never thinking; panting, panting! There,

where the rocks were the thickest; there, where on the open space the moonlight shone; there, where the

prickly pears were tangled, and the rocks cast shadows, on it ran; the little hands clinched, the little heart

It was not far to run now. Only the narrow path between the high rocks and the river.

At last she came to the end of it, and stood for an instant. Before her lay the plain, and the red farmhouse, so

near, that if persons had been walking there you might have seen them in the moonlight. She clasped her

hands. "Yes, I will tell them, I will tell them!" she said; "I am almost there!" She ran forward again, then

hesitated. She shaded her eyes from the moonlight, and looked. Between her and the farmhouse there were

In the sheeny moonlight you could see how they moved on, slowly and furtively; the short one, and the one in

"I cannot help them now!" she cried, and sank down on the ground, with her little hands clasped before her.

"Awake, awake!" said the farmer's wife; "I hear a strange noise; something calling, calling, calling!"

"I hear it also," he said; "surely some jackal's at the sheep. I will load my gun and go and see."

"It sounds to me like the cry of no jackal," said the woman; and when he was gone she woke her daughter.

"Come, let us go and make a fire, I can sleep no more," she said; "I have heard a strange thing tonight. Your

father said it was a jackal's cry, but no jackal cries so. It was a child's voice, and it cried, 'Master, master,

The women looked at each other; then they went to the kitchen, and made a great fire; and they sang psalms

At last the man came back; and they asked him, "What have you seen?" "Nothing," he said, "but the sheep

asleep in their kraals, and the moonlight on the walls. And yet, it did seem to me," he added, "that far away

near the krantz by the river, I saw three figures moving. And afterwardsit might have been fancyI

"He keeps looking over his shoulder," said one, "as though he thought he should see something there."

"When he drank his grog today," said another, "he let it fall, and looked round."

Next day, a small old Bushman, and a Hottentot, in ragged yellow trousers, were at a wayside canteen. When

the Bushman had had brandy, he began to tell how something (he did not say whether it was man, woman, or

child) had lifted up its hands and cried for mercy; had kissed a white man's hands, and cried to him to help it.

Next night, the moon rose up, and mounted the quiet sky. She was full now, and looked in at the little home;

at the purple flowers stuck about the room, and the kippersol on the shelf. Her light fell on the willow trees,

and on the high rocks, and on a little newmade heap of earth and round stones. Three men knew what was

I have an old, brown carved box; the lid is broken and tied with a string. In it I keep little squares of paper,

with hair inside, and a little picture which hung over my brother's bed when we were children, and other

things as small. I have in it a rose. Other women also have such boxes where they keep such trifles, but no

When my eye is dim, and my heart grows faint, and my faith in woman flickers, and her present is an agony

to me, and her future a despair, the scent of that dead rose, withered for twelve years, comes back to me. I

know there will be spring; as surely as the birds know it when they see above the snow two tiny, quivering

There were other flowers in the box once; a bunch of white acacia flowers, gathered by the strong hand of a

man, as we passed down a village street on a sultry afternoon, when it had rained, and the drops fell on us

from the leaves of the acacia trees. The flowers were damp; they made mildew marks on the paper I folded

them in. After many years I threw them away. There is nothing of them left in the box now, but a faint, strong

smell of dried acacia, that recalls that sultry summer afternoon; but the rose is in the box still.

It is many years ago now; I was a girl of fifteen, and I went to visit in a small upcountry town. It was young

in those days, and two days' journey from the nearest village; the population consisted mainly of men. A few

were married, and had their wives and children, but most were single. There was only one young girl there

when I came. She was about seventeen, fair, and rather fullyfleshed; she had large dreamy blue eyes, and

wavy light hair; full, rather heavy lips, until she smiled; then her face broke into dimples, and all her white

teeth shone. The hotelkeeper may have had a daughter, and the farmer in the outskirts had two, but we never

saw them. She reigned alone. All the men worshipped her. She was the only woman they had to think of.

They talked of her on the stoep, at the market, at the hotel; they watched for her at street corners; they hated

the man she bowed to or walked with down the street. They brought flowers to the front door; they offered

her their horses; they begged her to marry them when they dared. Partly, there was something noble and

heroic in this devotion of men to the best woman they knew; partly there was something natural in it, that

these men, shut off from the world, should pour at the feet of one woman the worship that otherwise would

have been given to twenty; and partly there was something mean in their envy of one another. If she had

raised her little finger, I suppose, she might have married any one out of twenty of them.

Then I came. I do not think I was prettier; I do not think I was so pretty as she was. I was certainly not as

handsome. But I was vital, and I was new, and she was oldthey all forsook her and followed me. They

worshipped me. It was to my door that the flowers came; it was I had twenty horses offered me when I could

only ride one; it was for me they waited at street corners; it was what I said and did that they talked of. Partly

I liked it. I had lived alone all my life; no one ever had told me I was beautiful and a woman. I believed them.

I did not know it was simply a fashion, which one man had set and the rest followed unreasoningly. I liked

them to ask me to marry them, and to say, No. I despised them. The mother heart had not swelled in me yet; I

did not know all men were my children, as the large woman knows when her heart is grown. I was too small

to be tender. I liked my power. I was like a child with a new whip, which it goes about cracking everywhere,

not caring against what. I could not wind it up and put it away. Men were curious creatures, who liked me, I

could never tell why. Only one thing took from my pleasure; I could not bear that they had deserted her for

me. I liked her great dreamy blue eyes, I liked her slow walk and drawl; when I saw her sitting among men,

she seemed to me much too good to be among them; I would have given all their compliments if she would

once have smiled at me as she smiled at them, with all her face breaking into radiance, with her dimples and

flashing teeth. But I knew it never could be; I felt sure she hated me; that she wished I was dead; that she

wished I had never come to the village. She did not know, when we went out riding, and a man who had

always ridden beside her came to ride beside me, that I sent him away; that once when a man thought to win

my favour by ridiculing her slow drawl before me I turned on him so fiercely that he never dared come before

me again. I knew she knew that at the hotel men had made a bet as to which was the prettier, she or I, and had

asked each man who came in, and that the one who had staked on me won. I hated them for it, but I would

If we met in the village street we bowed and passed on; when we shook hands we did so silently, and did not

look at each other. But I thought she felt my presence in a room just as I felt hers.

At last the time for my going came. I was to leave the next day. Some one I knew gave a party in my honour,

It was midwinter. There was nothing in the gardens but a few dahlias and chrysanthemums, and I suppose

that for two hundred miles round there was not a rose to be bought for love or money. Only in the garden of a

friend of mine, in a sunny corner between the oven and the brick wall, there was a rose tree growing which

had on it one bud. It was white, and it had been promised to the fair haired girl to wear at the party.

The evening came; when I arrived and went to the waitingroom, to take off my mantle, I found the girl there

already. She was dressed in pure white, with her great white arms and shoulders showing, and her bright hair

glittering in the candlelight, and the white rose fastened at her breast. She looked like a queen. I said

"Goodevening," and turned away quickly to the glass to arrange my old black scarf across my old black

I looked in the glass. She had taken the white rose from her breast, and was fastening it in my hair.

"How nice dark hair is; it sets off flowers so." She stepped back and looked at me. "It looks much better

Then they came in and swept us away to dance. All the evening we did not come near to each other. Only

Years afterwards I heard she had married and gone to America; it may or may not be sobut the rosethe

rose is in the box still! When my faith in woman grows dim, and it seems that for want of love and

magnanimity she can play no part in any future heaven; then the scent of that small withered thing comes

A woman sat at her desk in the corner of a room; behind her a fire burnt brightly.

"Say I am busy and can see no one now. I have to finish this article by two o'clock."

The servant came back. The caller said she would only keep her a moment: it was necessary she should see

A young woman in a silk dress, with a cloak reaching to her feet, entered. She was tall and slight, with fair

The woman offered her a seat by the fire. "May I loosen your cloak?the room is warm."

"I wanted so to come and see you. You are the only person in the world who could help me! I know you are

so large, and generous, and kind to other women!" She sat down. Tears stood in her large blue eyes: she was

"You know Mr." (she mentioned the name of a wellknown writer): "I know you meet him often in your

"I couldn't tell my father or my mother, or any one else; but I can tell you, though I know so little of you. You

know, last summer he came and stayed with us a month. I saw a great deal of him. I don't know if he liked

me; I know he liked my singing, and we rode togetherI liked him more than any man I have ever seen. Oh,

you know it isn't true that a woman can only like a man when he likes her; and I thought, perhaps, he liked

me a little. Since we have been in town we have asked, but he has never come to see us. Perhaps people have

been saying something to him about me. You know him, you are always meeting him, couldn't you say or do

anything for me?" She looked up with her lips white and drawn. "I feel sometimes as if I were going mad!

Oh, it is so terrible to be a woman!" The woman looked down at her. "Now I hear he likes another woman. I

don't know who she is, but they say she is so clever, and writes. Oh, it is so terrible, I can't bear it."

The woman leaned her elbow against the mantelpiece, and her face against her hand. She looked down into

the fire. Then she turned and looked at the younger woman. "Yes," she said, "it is a very terrible thing to be a

woman." She was silent. She said with some difficulty: "Are you sure you love him? Are you sure it is not

only the feeling a young girl has for an older man who is celebrated, and of whom every one is talking?"

"I have been nearly mad. I haven't slept for weeks!" She knit her little hands together, till the jewelled rings

almost cut into the fingers. "He is everything to me; there is nothing else in the world. You, who are so great,

and strong, and clever, and who care only for your work, and for men as your friends, you cannot understand

what it is when one person is everything to you, when there is nothing else in the world!"

"Oh, I don't know!" She looked up. "A woman knows what she can do. Don't tell him that I love him." She

looked up again. "Just say something to him. Oh, it's so terrible to be a woman; I can't do anything. You

won't tell him exactly that I love him? That's the thing that makes a man hate a woman, if you tell it him

"If I speak to him I must speak openly. He is my friend. I cannot fence with him. I have never fenced with

him in my own affairs." She moved as though she were going away from the fireplace, then she turned and

said: "Have you thought of what love is between a man and a woman when it means marriage? That long,

long life together, day after day, stripped of all romance and distance, living face to face: seeing each other as

a man sees his own soul? Do you realize that the end of marriage is to make the man and woman stronger

than they were; and that if you cannot, when you are an old man and woman and sit by the fire, say, 'Life has

been a braver and a freer thing for us, because we passed it hand in hand, than if we had passed through it

alone,' it has failed? Do you care for him enough to live for him, not tomorrow, but when he is an old, faded

man, and you an old, faded woman? Can you forgive him his sins and his weaknesses, when they hurt you

most? If he were to lie a querulous invalid for twenty years, would you be able to fold him in your arms all

that time, and comfort him, as a mother comforts her little child?" The woman drew her breath heavily.

"Oh, I love him absolutely! I would be glad to die, if only I could once know that he loved me better than

The woman stood looking down at her. "Have you never thought of that other woman; whether she could not

"Oh, no woman ever could be to him what I would be. I would live for him. He belongs to me." She bent

herself forward, not crying, but her shoulders moving. "It is such a terrible thing to be a woman, to be able to

The woman put her hand on her shoulder; the younger woman looked up into her face; then the elder turned

away and stood looking into the fire. There was such quiet, you could hear the clock tick above the writing

The woman said: "There is one thing I can do for you. I do not know if it will be of any useI will do it."

"Oh, you are so great and good, so beautiful, so different from other women, who are always thinking only of

themselves! Thank you so much. I know I can trust you. I couldn't have told my mother, or any one but you."

The woman who was left alone walked up and down, at last faster and faster, till the drops stood on her

forehead. After a time she went up to the table; there was written illegibly in a man's hand on a fragment of

manuscript paper: "Can I come to see you this afternoon?" Near it was a closed and addressed envelope. She

She closed them in an envelope and addressed them. Then she rolled up the manuscript on the table and rang

the bell. She gave it to the servant. "Tell the boy to give this to his master, and say the article ends rather

abruptly; they must state it is to be continued; I will finish it tomorrow. As he passes No. 20 let him leave this

The servant went out. She walked up and down with her hands folded above her head.

Two months after, the older woman stood before the fire. The door opened suddenly, and the younger woman

"I had to comeI couldn't wait. You have heard, he was married this morning? Oh, do you think it is true?

"Oh, it is so terrible, and I didn't know anything! Did you ever say anything to him?" She caught the woman's

"I never saw him again after the day you were here,so I could not speak to him,but I did what I could."

"And they say she is quite a child, only eighteen. They say he only saw her three times before he proposed to

"He can't love her. They say he's only marrying her for her rank and her money."

"What right have you to say that? No one but I know him. What need has he of any one's rank or wealth? He

is greater than them all! Older women may have failed him; he has needed to turn to her beautiful, fresh,

young life to compensate him. She is a woman whom any man might have loved, so young and beautiful; her

family are famed for their intellect. If he trains her, she may make him a better wife than any other woman

"Oh, but I can't bear itI can't bear it!" The younger woman sat down in the chair. "She will be his wife, and

"Yes." The elder woman moved quickly. "One wants to have the child, and lay its head on one's breast and

feed it." She moved quickly. "It would not matter if another woman bore it, if one had it to take care of." She

"Oh, no, I couldn't bear it to be hers. When I think of her I feel as if I were dying; all my fingers turn cold; I

The older spoke softly and quickly, "Don't you feel a little gentle to her when you think she's going to be his

wife and the mother of his child? I would like to put my arms round her and touch her once, if she would let

"Oh, I could never bear to see her; it would kill me. And they are so happy together today! He is loving her

"Don't you want him to be happy?" The older woman looked down at her. "Have you never loved him, at

The younger woman's face was covered with her hands. "Oh, it's so terrible, so dark! and I shall go on living

The older woman stood looking into the fire; then slowly and measuredly she said, "There are times, in life,

when everything seems dark, when the brain reels, and we cannot see that there is anything but death. But, if

we wait long enough, after long, long years, calm comes. It may be we cannot say it was well; but we are

contented, we accept the past. The struggle is ended. That day may come for you, perhaps sooner than you

"No, it can never come for me. If once I have loved a thing, I love it for ever. I can never forget."

The younger woman stood up. "It has been such a comfort to talk to you. I think I should have killed myself

"I cannot quite explain to you. You will not understand. But there are times when something more terrible

can come into a life than it should lose what it loves. If you have had a dream of what life ought to be, and

you try to make it real, and you fail; and something you have killed out in your heart for long years wakes up

and cries, 'Let each man play his own game, and care nothing for the hand of his fellow! Each man for

himself. So the game must be played!' and you doubt all you have lived for, and the ground seems washing

out under your feet." She paused. "Such a time has come to me now. If you would promise me that if ever

another woman comes to seek your help, you will give it to her, and try to love her for my sake, I think it will

The younger woman went; and the elder knelt down by the chair, and wailed like a little child when you have

The woman sat at her desk writing; behind her the fire burnt brightly. She was writing a leading article on the

causes which in differing peoples lead to the adoption of Free Trade or Protectionist principles.

The woman wrote on quickly. After a while the servant entered and laid a pile of letters on the table. "Tell the

boy I shall have done in fifteen minutes." She wrote on. Then she caught sight of the writing on one of the

"Dear Friend,I am writing to you, because I know you will rejoice to hear of my great happiness. Do you

remember how you told me that day by the fire to wait, and after long, long years I should see that all was for

the best? That time has come sooner than we hoped. Last week in Rome I was married to the best, noblest,

most largehearted of men. We are now in Florence together. You don't know how beautiful all life is to me.

I know now that the old passion was only a girl's foolish dream. My husband is the first man I have ever truly

loved. He loves me and understands me as no other man ever could. I am thankful that my dream was broken;

God had better things in store for me. I don't hate that woman any more; I love every one! How are you,

dear? We shall come and see you as soon as we arrive in England. I always think of you so happy in your

great work and helping other people. I don't think now it is terrible to be a woman; it is lovely.

The woman read the letter: then she stood up and walked towards the fire. She did not reread it, but stood

with it open in her hand, looking down into the blaze. Her lips were drawn in at the corners. Presently she

tore the letter up slowly, and watched the bits floating down one by one into the grate. Then she went back to

her desk, and began to write, with her mouth still drawn in at the corners. After a while she laid her arm on

Presently the servant knocked; the boy was waiting. "Tell him to wait ten minutes more." She took up her

pen"The Policy of the Australian Colonies in favour of Protection is easily understood" she