I could not help feeling that my godmother had told them it was to be so; and the wax candles shone on the scarlet berries and russet and orange and crimson leaves, on the delicate napery and glass and silver; and the fire leaped and sparkled in the grate.

I had a feeling that I and my godmother were shut in together from the world's trouble, although it waited for us outside the gate.
After dinner we sat by the fire and talked in a low voice, and I could not help commenting on the new serene happiness of my godmother's face.
I had always thought it a cheerful face before, although the face of one who had suffered; but now I wondered that I had thought it anything but sad.
"You look happy!" I said.
"And I am happy, Bawn, although I shall miss Joan.

But she is at rest with God, and before she died she told me something which set my heart at rest." "Ah, I am glad of that," I said.
She leant forward and took my hands in hers, making me turn round so as to face her.
"Bawn," she said, "there is nothing worth having in the world but love, nothing but love, nothing but love.

I tell it to you, although some people would think that love had wrecked my life.

But I have loved greatly, and I have been loved greatly, and I would not change places with any of your wives and mothers of families." "Yes, I know," I said.
"And if you do, Bawn, why don't you save yourself from this marriage?
The money doesn't tempt you, nor Richard Dawson's coarse comeliness.