“They’ll make her happy all right.  My girl has chosen wisely,” he thought.

Tom and Ethel went out together during Christmas week.  They skated and visited all the art galleries, enjoying every moment.  They had many serious talks, and Ethel took Tom to call on several of her friends.  The girls voted him delightful and Ethel was proud of him.  They spoke of Mattie Hastings.

“Tom, Patty will never get over it,” she said, “of that I’m sure.”

“Ethel, don’t you see, Patty witnessed it, and the shock is indelibly stamped on her memory.  Time will help remove it—­nothing else.”

“But what a brave act, wasn’t it?” continued Ethel.  “Patty sends orders for flowers once a week for her grave, and they say it looks very lovely.  And I even disliked her once.  I said her eyes were too close together and I misjudged her.  Then I fairly hated Nora—­think!—­she who saved my life.  Each one has done something.  What have I done?  Whom have I benefited?  Who is better for having had me for a friend?”

They were sitting on a bench in the picture gallery of the Metropolitan Museum Ethel looked very lovely.  She wore a bunch of Tom’s orchids and a grey velvet suit.  Her eyes were bright and her cheeks were burning red.  She was visibly excited.  Tom saw that she felt her life had been a failure.

“Ethel,” he said, taking her hand, “think of the joy you have brought to Aunt Susan.  Can’t you see how much happier she is today than when you first knew her?  Look at Nora.  Through you she has changed from an awkward girl into a cultivated and charming woman, engaged to a fine young physician belonging to one of New York’s oldest families.  Indirectly you are responsible for it all.  Look at little Mary Hastings.  Through you she has been, or will be completely cured of her spine trouble.  And lastly, look at me, Ethel, you have brought sunshine and happiness into my life.  It is not always the big things that go to make happiness.  It is the small things as well; and in your sweet, quiet way you have scattered light and joy in many paths.  I had not intended, my dear, to speak to you of my love.  I wished to wait until I had more of a name for you, and until you had come out and had a chance to choose from many men more worthy perhaps than I, but I can not keep my secret.  I love you, dear, and I would have you for my wife.  Can I hope?  Do you care for me a little?”

Ethel’s eyes shone like stars.  She looked up into his face and said: 

“I care for you a great deal,—­until you spoke I never knew how much.  If you wish I will be your wife.”

Then Tom lifted her hand to his lips.

“I will make you as happy as I know how,” he said.  “I had a feeling that I couldn’t keep my secret back after today.  Come, dear, let us go and tell them all; and never under-rate yourself again.”

People stared at the handsome couple and at their beaming faces.  Joy was stamped on their countenances and happiness shone from their eyes.