[Adaptweb-general] Arry her, marry her, marry her! Peal for a wedding, ' said the

[Naftel K. <for...@no...>]

 have led an army, or have loaded guns behind barricades. She has
courage and force, and the need of some big thing in her life to bring
out her best. And Porter doesn't need that kind of wife. He doesn't want
it. He wants to worship. To kneel at her feet and look up to her. He
would require nothing of her. He would smother her with tenderness. And
she doesn't want to be smothered. She wants to lift up her head and face
the beating winds." Mrs. Clendenning, helpless before this burst of
eloquence on the part of her usually restrained daughter, asked, tartly,
"How in the world do you know what Porter wants or Mary needs?"
"Perhaps," said Grace, slowly, "it is because I am a little like Mary.
But I am older, and I've learned to take what the world gives. Not what
I want. But Mary will never be content with compromise, and she will
always go through life with her head up." Mary's head was up at that
very moment, as with cheeks flaming and eyes bright, she played hostess
to her guests, while in the back of her brain were beating questions
about Roger Poole. Freed from the somewhat hampering presence of Mrs.
Clendenning, Delilah was letting herself go, and she drew even from
grave Gordon Richardson the tribute of laughter. "It was an artist that
I met at Marblehead," she said, "who showed me the way. He told me that
I was a blot against the sea and the sky, with my purples and greens and
reds and yellows. I will show you his sketches of me as I ought to be.
They opened my eyes; and I'll show you my artist too. He's coming down
to see whether I have caught the idea." And now