The happiness lies in the struggle, you know,--an old saying, but quite true.
Afterwards something intervenes." "To have struggled happily and successfully is happiness in itself.
Whatever comes afterwards nothing can take that away.

'I have done something; it is good; it cannot be changed; it is a stone built for ever in the pyramid of beauty, or knowledge, or advancement.' What can man hope to say more at the last, and how few live to say it, to say it truly?
You will leave a great name behind you, Mr.Monk." "I shall leave my work; that is enough for me," he answered.
For a while they walked in silence; then some thought struck him, and he stopped to ask: "Why did Layard come to the Dead Church to-day?
He said that he was going home, and it isn't on his road." Stella turned her head, but, even in that faint light, not quickly enough to prevent him seeing a sudden flush change the pallor of her face to the rich colour of her lips.
"To call, I suppose; or," correcting herself, "perhaps from curiosity." "And what did he talk about ?" "Oh, the aerophone, I think; I don't remember." "That must be a story," he said, laughing.

"I always remember Layard's conversation for longer than I want; it has a knack of impressing itself upon me.

What was it?
Cemetery land, church debts, the new drainage scheme, or something equally entrancing and confidential ?" Under this cross-examination Stella grew desperate, unnecessarily, perhaps, and said in a voice that was almost cross: "I cannot tell you; please let's talk of something else." Then of a sudden Morris understood, and, like a foolish man, at once jumped to a conclusion far other than the truth.

Doubtless Layard had gone to the church to propose to Stella, and she had accepted him, or half accepted him; the confusion of her manner told its own tale.