nto his?
Like a knife flashing through the gloom of his own shame would come the
echo of her words as she pleaded with him to kiss her. It was a kiss of
forgiveness she had wanted, and she had put her heart into her eyes and
begged as for her very life. How could he have refused? Then he would
parley with himself for a long time trying to prove to himself that the
kiss and the embrace were justified, that he had done no wrong in God's
sight. And ever after this round of confused arguing he would end with the
terrible conviction that he had sinned.

Sometimes Marcia's sweet face and troubled eyes would appear to him as he
wrestled all alone, and seemed to be longing to help him, and again would
come the piercing thought that he had harmed this gentle girl also. He had
tangled her into his own spoiled web of life, and been disloyal to her.
She was pure and true and good. She had given up every thing to help him
and he had utterly forgotten her. He had promised to love, cherish, and
protect her! That was another sin. He could not love and cherish her when
his whole heart was another's. Then he thought of Kate's husband, that
treacherous man who had stolen his bride and now gone away and left her
sorrowing--left her without money, penniless in a strange city. Why had he
not been more calm and questioned her before he came away. Perhaps she was
in great need. It comforted him to think he had left her all the money he
had with him. There was enough to keep her from want for a while. And yet,
perhaps he had been wrong to give it to her. He had no right to give it!

He groaned aloud at the thought of his helplessness to help her
helplessness. Was there not some way he could find out and help her
without doing wrong?

Over and over he went through the whole dreadful day, until his brain was
weary and his heart failed him. The heavens seemed brass and no answer
came to his cry,--the appeal of a broken soul. It seemed that he could not
get up from his knees, could not go out into the world again and face
life. He had been tried and had failed, and yet though he knew his sin he
felt an intolerable longing to commit it over again. He was frightened at
his own weakness, and with renewed vigor he began to pray for help. It was
like the prayer of Jacob of old, the crying out of a soul that would not
be denied. All day long the struggle continued, and far into the night. At
last a great peace began to settle upon David's soul. Things t