that could happen for the
immortal beings He had created in His own image. Upon this assurance
fell the greatest, almost the only, blow that life could deal Septimus
May. He was stricken suddenly, fearfully with his unutterable loss; but
his agony turned into prayer while he knelt beside his son. He prayed
with a fiery intensity and a resonant vibration of voice that scorched
rather than comforted the woman who knelt beside him. The fervor of the
man's emotion and the depth of his conviction, running like a torrent
through the narrow channels of his understanding, were destined
presently to complicate a situation sufficiently painful without
intervention; for a time swiftly came when Septimus May forced his
beliefs upon Chadlands and opposed them to the opinions of other people
as deeply concerned as himself to explain the death of his son.

Mr. May, learning that most of the house party could not depart until
the following morning, absented himself from dinner; indeed, he spent
his time almost entirely with his boy, and when night came kept vigil
beside him. Something of the strange possession of his mind already
appeared, in curious hints that puzzled Sir Walter; but it was not until
after the post-mortem examination and inquest that his extraordinary
views were elaborated.

Millicent Fayre-Michell and her uncle were the first to depart on the
following day. The girl harbored a grievance.

"Surely Mary might have seen me a moment to say 'Good-bye,'" she
said. "It's a very dreadful thing, but we've been so sympathetic and
understanding about it that I think they ought to feel rather grateful.
They might realize how trying it is for us, too. And to let me go
without even seeing her--she saw Mrs. Travers over and over again."

"Do not mind. Grief makes people selfish," declared Felix. "Probably we
should not have acted so. I think we should have hidden our sufferings
and faced our duty; but perhaps we are exceptional. I dare say Mrs. May
will write and express regret and gratitude later. We must allow for her
youth and sorrow."

Mr. Fayre-Michell rather prided himself on the charity of this
conclusion.

When Mr. and Mrs. Travers departed, Sir Walter bade them farewell.
The lady wept, and her tears fell on his hand as he held it. She was
hysterical.

"For Heaven's sake don't let Mary be haunted by that dreadful priest,"
she said. "There is something terrible about him. He has no bowels
of compassion. I tried to c