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would recall my father to him。 And you remember that one of my brothers was a favourite young officer of his。 I should like you to hear him speak of them both： he has not forgotten。 Ah！ My father！ He had his faults； but they were all the faults of a gentleman。 And the faults of my brothers were the faults of gentlemen。 I never saw my mother； but I know how genuine she was by the books she liked and her dresses and her jewels； and the manner in which she had things put away in the closets。 One's childhood is everything！ If I had not felt I was all there was in the world to speak for my father and my mother and my brothers！ Ah； sometimes pride is the greatest of virtues！〃
He bowed his head in assent。
With a swift transition she changed her voice and manner and the conversation： 〃That is enough about me。 Have you thought that you will soon be talking to the greatest man in the worldyou who love ideals？〃
〃I have not thought of it lately。〃 〃You will think of it soon！ And that reminds me： why did you go away as you did the last time you were herewhen I wanted to talk with you about the book？〃
Her eyes questioned him imperiously。 〃I cannot tell you： that is one of the things you'd better not wish to understand。
She continued to look at him； and when she spoke； her voice was full of relief： 〃It was the first time you ever did anything that I could not understand： I could not read your face that day。〃 〃Can you read it now？〃 he asked； smiling at her sorrowfully。 〃Perfectly！〃
〃What do you read？〃
〃Everything that I have always liked you for most。 Memories are a great deal to me。 Ah； if you had ever done anything to spoil yours！〃 Do you think that if I loved a woman she would know it by looking at my face？〃 〃You would tell her： that is your nature。〃
〃Would I？ Should I？〃
〃Why not？〃 There was silence。 〃Let me talk to you about the book；〃 he cried suddenly。 He closed his eyes and passed one hand several times slowly across his forehead； then facing her but with his arm resting on the back of the seat and his eyes shaded by his hand he began：
〃You were right： it is a book I have needed。 At first it appeared centuries old to me and far away： the greatest gorgeous picture I had ever seen of human life anywhere。 I could never tell you of the regret with which it filled me not to have lived in those daysof the longing to have been at Camelot to have seen the King and to have served him； to have been friends with the best of the Knights； to have taken their vows； to have gone out with them to right what was wrong； to wrong nothing that was right。〃
The words were wrung from him with slow terrible effort； as though he were forcing himself to draw nearer and nearer some spot of supreme mental struggle。 She listened； stilled； as she had never been by any words of his。 At the same time she felt stifledfelt that she should have to cry outthat he could be so deeply moved and so self…controlled。
More slowly； with more composure； he went on。 He was still turned toward her； his hand shading the upper part of his face：
〃It was not untilnot untilafterwardsthat I got something more out of it than all thatgot what I suppose you meant。 。 。 。 suppose you meant that the whole story was not far away from me but present hereits right and wrongits temptation； that there was no vow a man could take then that a man must not take now； that every man still has his Camelot and his King； still has to prove his courage and his strength to all men 。 。 。 and that after he has proved these； he hasas his last； highest act of service in the world。 。 。 to lay them all down； give them all up； for the sake ofof his spirit。 You meant that I too； in my life； am to go in quest of the Grail： is it all that？〃
The tears lay mute on her eyes。 She rose quickly and walked away to the garden。 He followed her。 When they had entered it； he strolled beside her among the plants。
〃You must see them once more；〃 she said。 Her tone was perfectly quiet and careless。 Then she continued with animation： 〃Some day you will not know this garden。 When we are richer； you will see what I shall do： with it； with the house； with everything！ I do not live altogether on memories： I have hopes。〃
They came to the bench where they were used to talk； She sat down； and waited until she could control the least tremor of her voice。 Then she turned upon him her noble eyes； the exquisite passionate tender light of which no effort of the will could curtain in。 Nor could any self…restraint turn aside the electrical energy of her words：〃I thought I should not let you go away without saying something more to you about what has happened lately with Amy。 My interest in you； your future； your success； has caused me to feel everything more than you can possibly realize。 But I am not thinking of this now： it is nothing； it will pass。 What it has caused me to see and to regret more than anything else is the power that life will have to hurt you on account of the ideals that you have built up in secret。 We have been talking about Sir Thomas Malory and chivalry and ideals： there is one thing you need to knowall of us need to know itand to know it well。〃Ideals are of two kinds。 There are those that correspond to our highest sense of perfection。 They express what we might be were life； the world； ourselves； all different； all better。 Let these be high as they may！ They are not useless because unattainable。 Life is not a failure because they are never attained。 God Himself requires of us the unattainable： 'Be ye perfect； even as I am perfect！ He could not do less。 He commands perfection； He forgives us that we are not perfect！ Nor does He count us failures because we have to be forgiven。 Our ideals also demand of us perfectionthe impossible； but because we come far short of this we have no right to count ourselves as failures。 What are they likeideals such as these？ They are like light…houses。 But light…houses are not made to live in； neither can we live in such ideals。 I suppose they are meant to shine on us from afar； when the sea of our life is dark and stormy； perhaps to remind us of a haven of hope； as we drift or sink in shipwreck。 All of your ideals are lighthouses。 〃But there are ideals of another sort； it is these that you lack。 As we advance into life； out of larger experience of the world and of ourselves； are unfolded the ideals of what will be possible to us if we make the best use of the world and of ourselves； taken as we are。 Let these be as high as they may； they will always be lower than those others which are perhaps the veiled intimations of our immortality。 These will always be imperfect； but life is not a failure because they are so。 It is these that are to burn for us； not like light…houses in the distance； but like candles in our hands。 For so many of us they are too much like candles！the longer they burn； the lower they burn； until before death they go out altogether！ But I know that it will not be thus with you。 At first you will have disappoint…ments and sufferingsthe world on one side； unattainable ideals of perfection on the other。 But by degrees the comforting light of what you may actually do and be in an imperfect world will shine close to you and all a