pts?"

"Yes; you have done that a number of times."

"But there is one time which I shall remember. It was the time when I
read what Uncle Zed had written about sin and death."

"O, I had not intended you to see that."

"But I did, and I read carefully every word of it. I understood most of
it, too. 'The wages of sin is death'--That applies to me. I am a sinner.
I shall die. I have already died, according to Uncle Zed."

"No, Carlia, you misapply that. We are all sinners, and we all die in
proportion to our sinning. That's true enough; but there is also
the blessed privilege of repentance to consider. Let me finish the
quotation: 'The wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal
life through Jesus Christ our Lord'; also let me add what the Lord said
about those who truly repent; 'Though your sins be as scarlet, they
shall be white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be
as wool'. That is a great comfort to all of us, Carlia."

"Yes; thank you, Dorian.... but--but now I must tell you. The Lord may
forgive me, but you cannot."

"Carlia, I have long since forgiven you."

"Oh, of my little foolish ways, of course; but, Dorian, you don't
know--"

"But, Carlia, I do know. And I tell you that I have forgiven you."

"The terrible thing about me?"

"The unfortunate thing and the great sorrow which has come to you, and
the suffering--yes, Carlia, I know."

"I can't understand your saying that."

"But I understand."

"Who told you?"

"Mrs. Whitman."

"Have you been there?"

"Yes."

"Dorian!" She stared past him through the open window into the western
sky. The upper disk of the sun sank slowly behind the purple mountain.
The flaming underlining of a cloud reflected on the open water of the
marshland and faintly into the room and on to the pale face of the
girl. Presently, she arose, swayed and held out her arms as if she was
falling. Dorian caught her. Tears, long pent up, save in her own lonely
hours, now broke as a torrent from her eyes, and her body shook in sobs.
Gone was her reserve now, her holding him away, her power of resistance.
She lay supinely in his arms, and he held her close. O, how good it was
to cry thus! O, what a haven of rest! Would the tears and sobs never
cease?... The sun was down, the color faded from the sky, a big shadow
enveloped the earth.

Then when she became quieter, she freed her arms, reached up and clasped
her hands behind his neck, clinging to hi