priest's cultivated mind was
to him always a source of delight.

So he turned back and walked with him into the garden and along by the
sea wall, instead of across the causeway and to the house. This was the
doing of the Pere Anselme, for he felt now might be his time.

Henry had been growing more and more troubled while he had been out by
himself. He could not disguise the fact that there was some great change
in Sabine, and now his anxious mood craved sympathy and counsel from
this her great friend.

"Madame Howard does not look quite well, Father," he remarked, after
they had pulled some modern philosophies to pieces, and there had been a
pause. "She is so nervous--what is the cause of it, do you know? Perhaps
this place does not suit her in the winter. It is so very cold."

"Yes, it is cold--but that is not the reason." And the Pere Anselme drew
closer his old black cloak. "There are other and stronger causes for the
state in which we find the Dame Sabine."

Henry peered into his face anxiously in the gray light--it was four
o'clock, the day would soon be gone. He knew that these words contained
ominous meaning, and his voice was rather unsteady as he asked:

"What are the reasons, Father? Please tell me if you are at liberty to
do so. To me the welfare of this dear lady is all that matters in life."

The Cure of Heronac cleared his throat, and then he said gently:

"I spoke once before to you about the cinders and as to whether or no
they were still red. That is what causes her to be restless--she has
found that they are yet alight."

Lord Fordyce was a brave man, but he grew very pale. It seemed that
suddenly all the fears which his heart had sheltered, though would not
own as facts, were rising before him like giant skeletons, concrete and
distinct.

"But the divorce is going well!" he exclaimed a little passionately, his
hurt was so great. "She told me so last night; she will be free some
time in January, and will then be my wife."

His happiness should not be torn from him without a desperate fight.

The priest's voice was very sad as he answered:

"That is so. She will, no doubt, be ready to marry you whenever you ask
it is for you to demand of yourself whether you will accept her
sacrifice."

"Sacrifice! I would never dream of any sacrifice. It is unthinkable,
Father!"

Anguish now distraught Henry's soul; he stopped in his walk and looked
full at the priest, his fine, distinguished face wor