"Do you think I am a shallow stream because I cry out in my pain?"

"No, dear, but you are a highly emotional child, and demand more of life than you are liable to receive."

"I flew to the very heights of love; he was content to grope below the stars."

"Oh, you child, you child, you are so young, and you do love to talk like a tragedy queen. When real trouble comes you will lose all those romantic ideas, and will not look to have a man express his deepest emotions in poetry. Real trouble will come soon enough; it is our portion in this life, and you must learn not to dwell in the clouds, but to gain a more practical outlook."

"And while I am learning I shall be very, very unhappy."

"Perhaps so; I am afraid so. Unhappiness comes to each one in some form or other, but we need not magnify it, dwell on it, nurse it, hug it to our breasts. We need not be selfish about it and imagine our griefs greater than those of any other. We must rise above them and try to help those whose sorrows are greater than ours."

Nancy gave a deep sigh. At that moment she did not think any sorrow could be greater than her present one. She was emotional, enthusiastic, with an eager belief that life must hold for her all that her ardent nature could demand. Unhappiness had been given no place in her dreams heretofore and she was not armed to meet it. She had planned out an interview with her lover, an interview which she believed would terminate exactly as she fancied it would. She had wanted to make this a supreme test and she was aghast that it had resulted so disastrously. Bubbling over with joy, full of appreciation, of fresh and pretty fancies, with a keen sense of humor, yet thrilled by more serious things, it is no wonder that Terrence Wirt found her charming. Her beauty, versatility of mind and her enthusiasm were liable to impress a more mature and more exacting man. That he had been the first to become her suitor was due to chance, Fate, Nancy called it, and the romantic manner of their meeting had much to do with the rapidity with which she fell in love. Probably her heart was standing tiptoe waiting for the possible prince, and any who bore the slightest semblance to a knightly figure would have been welcomed. As it was, when the girth of her saddle broke, she was dumped upon a country road and a good-looking young man suddenly galloped up, dismounted and insisted upon leading his and her own horse to her home, in her eyes he appeared as truly a Paladin as if he had worn shining 

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