"Do you feel strong enough to see Clarence? He has requested an interview as soon as you are equal to the task."

"Yes, mother; I shall be very glad to see him tomorrow. Somehow," declared Truth, "I no longer fear him."

"Then why not return to him?" interposed Mrs. Ralston quickly. "His social position ought to be taken into consideration. In these days, my daughter, money can contribute much toward happiness."

"Happiness for me can never be bought with money."

"My dear child, have you fully considered the consequences? However we may try to suppress it - your separation is bound to create a scandal. Think of the unpleasant notoriety it will involve in our circle. The papers will be full of sensational things. I can already hear the newsboys shouting it on the streets; it will be a terrible ordeal."

"Mother, dear, listen to me. This ordeal will be nothing compared to a loveless marriage; dragging out a miserable, loathsome existence with one I do not love. Why care so much for what the world says and thinks? Why should we permit the fear of society, with all its false methods, to sway us in following the dictates of our heart and soul desires? If I were to sacrifice all my hopes and ideals and sell my body as a wife to Clarence Vallero, the world of conventionality would no doubt respect, what every true woman would despise in herself."

Mrs. Ralston gazed at Truth with amazement as she continued:

"Mother, let me confess frankly that I am heartily tired and ashamed of this hypocritical life and refuse to take part in the farce modern society is playing daily. I want something more real, mother, more satisfying; something to do and achieve." Her voice trembled in her pleading eloquence. For a moment she hesitated and with outraged dignity gazed at her mother.

"What in the world has come over you, my child; I never heard you talk this way before? You have been lying here, destroying all our plans for the future, and our travels."

"I am tired of travelling," interposed Truth nervously. "Forgive me mother, dear, if I seem ungrateful for all the advantages I heartily appreciated once upon a time, but that time has gone by. What I want now is work, useful work, something worth while, to somewhat make amends for the useless creature I have been."

Mrs. Ralston heard the ring of determination in her daughter's voice with a feeling of dismay. Was Truth developing her father's obstinate spirit? That could never be changed when once he resolved to do a thing which his heart was set upon.

"What kind of work could you really do, dear child, that would benefit yourself or any one else; what are you fitted for? I know of nothing." declared Mrs. Ralston with an air of helplessness.

"That is just the question I asked myself, mother, and when the answer came I was painfully shocked. Then I began to think and a craving desire crept into my heart and I prayed as I never had before, and mother, dear, I felt that my first earnest prayer was answered - for my soul was inspired with beautiful thoughts - and I thanked God for my affliction which made a glorious work possible for me to accomplish. I can be of great service to the blind, having lived many years with those sightless ones. I understand and sympathize with their yearn-ings, which nothing but the sight of our beautiful world can satisfy. But the motive which is prompting me to do God's work will cast rays of sunshine into the world of darkness and lonesome lives of my unfortunate brothers and sisters."

The sweet and solemn gladness that vibrated in Truth's voice deeply affected Mrs. Ralston, although she did not share this noble enthusiasm.

"Tell me, my child, what in the world it is that you desire to do for them?"

"Enter in the school for the blind where I can be of incalculable service to these sightless ones."

"Mercy," exclaimed Mrs. Ralston, "you do not seriously mean to undertake such dismal work? Why it would be just dreadful, child, to be constantly in such depressing atmosphere.

Let those who are obliged to earn their living do such work."

Truth shook her head. "There are only a few who can give their heart's service, which, because of my past affliction, I can render with sympathy."

"Then why not content yourself with having Faith here with us; that ought to satisfy your desire for service to others. It would certainly be a sufficient task upon your strength."

"My work must be a labor of love that can not confine itself to one personality; it reaches out to all I am able to assist in my simple way. Let us reason mother, and then adopt the best plan for the future. When this scandal, as you term it, comes to light, you will insist on going somewhere to evade the gossip of society. I would refuse to accompany you, and could not remain in this big house alone. Now, understand me well, mother - when Faith goes back to school - I shall go with her. Then, how grand it would be for you, dear mother, to take a little cottage near by, where I could spend my spare time with you. There, there! Now don't say it is impossible! Just think it over seriously, and I know you will agree with my suggestion."

"Now, mother, will you kindly ask Clarence not to call at the house again, until I ask him to, then I shall be able to give him a final answer in everything concerning our separation."

Mrs. Ralston complied with astonishment. Could this, indeed, be her timid little girl, asserting her womanhood in this unaccountable way?

Taking the initiative and quietly planning her own life - and such a life - even the thought of it made her shudder. To have Truth bury herself in the School for the Blind and ruin all her future prospect, depressed her beyond endurance. With such confused and embarrassing thoughts, Mrs. Ralston left the room with a pretense that she telephone Truth's message to Clarence Vallero.

That it was not received pleasantly was confirmed by Mrs. Ralston's answer: "I shall have nothing more to say; Truth will settle the whole question. Good-bye."