DAPHNE
"Why tell?" he asked. "Isn't there present misery enough before our eyes always, without remembering the old?"
She only gazed at him, with a puzzled frown on her forehead.
"So you think it is your duty to worry?" he asked, the joyous note coming back into his voice.
Daphne broke into a smile.
"I suppose I do," she confessed. "And it's so hard here. I keep forgetting."
"Why do you want to remember?"
"It is so selfish not to."
He nodded, with an air of ancient wisdom.
"I have lived on this earth more years than you have, some thousands, you remember, and I can assure you that more people forget their fellows because of their own troubles than because of their own joys."
The girl pulled at a tendril of the vine with her fingers, eyeing her companion keenly.
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