Hare, glancing at them, quietly drew Lady Wereminster's attention to the fact that Mrs. Farquharson was still sitting apart from the rest with Meavy. "Would it not be correct to congratulate her too?" he suggested.
"And you--have you nothing to say?" Farquharson asked. They were practically alone for the first time since his marriage.
"Don't--don't!" she said; "it's beyond all words--the gladness, I mean. You know the little desert song--
"'No one but God and I Know what is in my heart.'
"Now, Evelyn, Evelyn, come over here with my husband, or I shall feel quite jealous," called Mrs. Farquharson from the other end of the room.
"A sacred burden is the life ye bear: Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly; Stand up and walk beneath it steadfastly; Fail not for sorrow; falter not for sin, But onward, upward, till the goal ye win." F. A. KEMBLE.
"Once upon a time," said Lady Wereminster, "I used to meet treachery with openness. I believed that to raise the standard of right meant victory. Now I know it doesn't, from this world's point of view. Men and women who batten upon each other, who, being insensitive to the feelings of others, mock at the halt and blind, get all they want from life. Life, like the judge in the importunate widow story, gives only to those who ask persistently."
"I used to pride myself on asking very little from life; now I've found out that what I want is priceless," said Evelyn. Lady Wereminster had come in to see her one afternoon after a big function at Holland House, and stayed, as was her custom.
"You think you're alone in your suffering," said Lady Wereminster; "well, you're not. Your friends suffer with you, they see you shamed and broken in the world's eyes, and they stand on the pillory with you, and are beaten with stripes as you are. Don't think I'm trying to force your confidence. I'm not. I only want you to know what people like you so seldom realize, that, as you walk to the Cross, a host of invisible followers pursue you, the people you've helped, the people who love you, the people to whom your hurt is more than their own. We're not all of us called upon to make great sacrifices, Evelyn. It's only a few people like you in a century upon whom the demand is made. If I were a pagan I should say that the gods were jealous of the gift of love. Take any of the lives you know, and you'll see that, where love is, the real communion between men and women, the tie is rudely broken either by death or some more imminent disaster. I keep my faith in spite of being sure that the Great Power behind only allows us to taste supreme joy for a short time. Human beings are born with the capacity of holding a certain amount of strength and force and happiness. If they take all their happiness at once, as those of us do who drink the cup at its fullest, they must go thirsty for the remainder of their days."