d cheated of her sweetest gift.
More than the man who had lived out a bitter expiation, did she pity her
who had missed the fight, slipped out of the struggle. Death seemed to
Esther such a terrible thing. The new life stirring in her shuddered at
the thought of mortality. That breath of the divine which we name Love
began already to proclaim itself immortal.

Yet Molly, that other girl, had loved--and died.

The doctor, too, was lost in self communings. Already, with the words
not cold upon his lips, he was surprised that he had told the story. How
could he? Why had he? That pitiful little story of Molly which had been
too sacred for the touch of a word. Above all, why had the telling been
a relief? It was a relief, he knew that. Somewhere, in the silver waters
of Pine Lake he had buried a burden. He felt lighter, younger. Had his
very love for Molly become a load whose proper name was remorse? Had his
heart harboured regret and fear under the name of sorrow? Or had he
never loved at all, never really sorrowed? Had the thing he called love
been but a boy's hot passion caught in the grip of a man's awakening
will, a mistake made irrevocable by a stubbornness of purpose which
could not face defeat? Whatever it had been, it had come to be a burden.
And the burden had lightened--it pressed no longer. In a word, he was
free! He was his own man again, unafraid, able to look into his heart,
to open all the windows--no dark corners, no haunting ghosts! He could
enter now without the dread of echoing footsteps or wistful, half-heard
whisperings. The shade of pretty, childish Molly would vex no more.

The relief of it--the pain of it! It was like a new birth.

Meanwhile the strong, sure strokes were bringing them swiftly nearer the
opposite shore where yellow dots of light proclaimed the position of the
summer cottages. One dot, larger, detached itself from the others and
indicated the flare on the end of the landing float. Outlines began to
be darkly discernible, the moon's silver mirror was shivered by lances
of gold. Very soon their journey would be ended.

The paddle dipped more slowly. Esther sighed, and sat up straighter.
Considering all the trouble they had taken, neither of them seemed
overjoyed to be so near the desired haven.

"We are nearly there," said Callandar obviously.

Esther looked backward over their shining wake. Something precious
seemed to be slipping away on those fairy ripples. Yet all she could
fi