sing and falling upon her breast; sweeping away cities
and nursing to life violets; tearing down and building up; killing and
begetting; bringing laughter and tears, it is consistent in one thing
alone,--that it never ceases. There is but one word big enough to
express it, and that is God. Without beginning, without end, and never
ceasing. At times he grew breathless, so individualized did every
second become, so fraught with haste. Where was he being dragged, and
in the end would the seconds rest? No, they would go on just the same,
and he might hear them even in his grave.

With his decision came the even more vital question as to what he
should tell this girl. With the strength of his whole nature he craved
the privilege of standing white before her. He longed to tell her the
whole pitiful complication that he might stand before her without
shadow of hypocrisy. He could then leave with his head up to meet his
doom. But even this crumb of relief was refused him. To do this might
break down the boy and would leave her, if only as a friend, to bear
something of the ensuing hours. He must, then, leave her in darkness,
suffering the lesser stings of doubt and suspicion and bewilderment.
He must leave her in false colors to whatever she might imagine.

She came back again with her lips quivering.

"Poor Marie," she gasped. "She lies there broken hearted, praying to
die."

"I am sorry for her," he said gently.

"I feel the blame of it," she answered. "Why must the curse of the
house have fallen upon her?"

"It is difficult to work out such matters," he replied. "But I don't
think you should shoulder the responsibility. We each of us must bear
the burden of our own acts. It makes it even harder when another tries
to relieve us of this."

"But I can't relieve her. That is the pity of it. She turns away her
head from me for she has taken upon herself all the responsibility for
Jacques."

"That is the mother in her. There is nothing you can do."

"She will die of grief."

"Then she will be dead. So her relief will come."

The girl drew back a little.

"She must not die. I must not let her die."

She looked up at him as though she expected him even in this emergency
to suggest some way out of it. But he was speechless.

"I must go back to her," she said after a minute. "I must go and
comfort her."

"Yes," he said, "that is the best you can do. Take her hand and hold
it. That is all yo