 not only left
her cold, but weighed upon her, afflicted her beyond her strength. What was it,
in truth, that restored her to herself and made her heart beat joyously? Knit
your brows against her; shake your head and raze her name from that catalogue of
saints whereon you have inscribed it in anticipation. Jane rejoiced simply
because she loved a poor man, and had riches that she could lay at his feet.
    Great sums of money, vague and disturbing to her imagination when she was
bidden hold them in trust for unknown people, gleamed and made music now that
she could think of them as a gift of love. By this way of thought she could
escape from the confusion in which Michael's solemn appeal had left her. Exalted
by her great hope, calmed by the assurance of aid that would never fail her, she
began to feel the beauty of the task to which she was summoned; the appalling
responsibility became a high privilege now that it was to be shared with one in
whose wisdom and strength she had measureless confidence. She knew now what
wealth meant; it was a great and glorious power, a source of blessings
incalculable. This power it would be hers to bestow, and no man more worthy than
he who should receive it at her hands.
    It was not without result that Jane had been so long a listener to the
conversations between Michael and Kirkwood. Defective as was her instruction in
the ordinary sense, those evenings spent in the company of the two men had done
much to refine her modes of thought. In spite of the humble powers of her mind
and her narrow experience, she had learned to think on matters which are wholly
strange to girls of her station, to regard the life of the world and the
individual in a light of idealism and with a freedom from ignoble association
rare enough in any class. Her forecast of the future to be spent with Sidney was
pathetic in its simplicity, but had the stamp of nobleness. Thinking of the past
years, she made clear to herself all the significance of her training. In her
general view of things, wealth was naturally allied with education, but she
understood why Michael had had her taught so little. A wealthy woman is called a
lady; yes, but that was exactly what she was not to become. On that account she
had gone to work, when in reality there was no need for her to do so. Never must
she remove herself from the poor and the laborious, her kin, her care; never
must she forget those bitter sufferings of her childhood, precious as
