something incurably frivolous about me, because, right in the middle of it all, with me crying and Fred looking so wild and tragic, the thought popped into my head that it would be an unendurable thing to see that nose across from me at the breakfast table every morning of my life. There, that is one of the entries I wouldn’t want my descendants to read in this journal. But it is the humiliating truth; and perhaps it’s just as well that thought did come or I might have been tricked by pity and remorse into giving him some rash assurance. If Fred’s nose were as handsome as his eyes and mouth some such thing might have happened. And then what an unthinkable predicament I should have been in!
“When poor Fred became convinced that I couldn’t promise him, he behaved beautifully—though that rather made things worse. If he had been nasty about it I wouldn't have felt so heart-broken and remorseful—though why I should feel remorseful I don’t know, for I never encouraged Fred to think I cared a bit about him. Yet feel remorseful I did—and do. If Fred Arnold never comes back from overseas, this will haunt me all my life.
“Then Fred said if he couldn’t take my love with him to the trenches at least he wanted to feel that he had my friendship, and would I kiss him just once in good-bye before he went—perhaps forever?
“I don’t know how I could ever have imagined that love affairs were delightful, interesting things. They are horrible. I couldn’t even give poor heart-broken Fred one little kiss, because of my promise to Ken. It seemed brutal. I had to tell Fred that of course he would have my friendship, but that I couldn’t kiss him
