They looked only at the 'village churls,' and wove their webs to fit their unworthy shoulders, so that the men they married were not princes, and they couldn't bring the diamond leaf." "The name of the prince need not always be _Man_, need it ?" ventured Joyce.

"Couldn't it be Success?
It seems to me that if I had struggled along for years, trying to make the most of my little ability, had worked just as faithfully and wisely at my art as I could, it would be perfect happiness to have the world award me the place of a great artist.

It would be as much to me as the diamond leaf that marriage could bring.

I should think you'd feel that way, too, Betty, about your writing.

There are marriages that are failures just as there are artistic and literary careers that are failures, and there are diamond leaves to reward the work and waiting of old maids, just as there are diamond leaves to reward the Hildegardes who use their yardsticks.
Sometimes there are girls who don't marry because they sacrifice their lives to taking care of their families, or living for those who are dependent on them.