The Way to Peace

"Your head's better than hers, young man," the venturesome relative insisted.

"But it must be her head and not mine, Aunty, when it comes to doing what she thinks is right, even if it's wrong," he said, smiling.

"Well, tell her she's a little fool!" cried the old lady, viciously.

"You can't do that with 'Thalia," Lewis explained, patiently, "because it would make her unhappy. She takes everything so dreadfully hard; she feels things more than other people do."

"Lewis," said the little, old, wrinkled, privileged great-aunt, "think a little less of her feelings and a little more of your own, or you'll make a mess of things."

Lewis Hall was too respectful to tell the old lady what he thought of such selfish advice; he merely did not act upon it. Instead, he went on giving a great deal of thought to Athalia's "feelings." That was why he and she were climbing the hill in the dewy silence of this August morning. Athalia had "felt" that she wa