ck sharp breath as of one
in effort,--then he spoke again, unsteadily--

"I mean"--he said, smiling forcedly--"I mean that you should not--you
should not break the heart of--of--the poor Giulio for instance!... it
would not be kind."

She lifted her eyes again and fixed them on him.

"No, it would not be kind!" she said, softly--"Dear Don Aloysius, I
understand! And I will remember!" She glanced at a tiny diamond-set
watch-bracelet on her wrist--"How late it is!--nearly all the morning
gone! I have kept you so long listening to my talk--forgive me! I will
run away now and leave you to think about my 'intervals' of
happiness,--will you?--they are so few compared to yours!"

"Mine?" he echoed amazedly.

"Yes, indeed!--yours! Your whole life is an interval of happiness
between this world and the next, because you are satisfied in the
service of God!"

"A poor service!" he said, turning his gaze away from her elfin figure
and shining hair--"Unworthy,--shameful!--marred by sin at every moment!
A priest of the Church must learn to do without happiness such as
ordinary life can give--and without love,--such as woman may
give--but--after all--the sacrifice is little."

She smiled at him, sweetly--tenderly,

"Very little!" she said--"So little that it is not worth a regret!
Good-bye! But not for long! Come and see me soon!"

Moving across the cloister with her light step she seemed to float
through the sunshine like a part of it, and as she disappeared a kind
of shadow fell, though no cloud obscured the sun. Don Aloysius watched
her till she had vanished,--then turned aside into a small chapel
opening out on the cloistered square--a chapel which formed part of the
monastic house to which he belonged as Superior,--and there, within
that still, incense-sweetened sanctuary, he knelt before the noble,
pictured Head of the Man of Sorrows in silent confession and prayer.

CHAPTER X

Roger Seaton was a man of many philosophies. He had one for every day
in the week, yet none wherewith to thoroughly satisfy himself. While
still a mere lad he had taken to the study of science as a duck takes
to water,--no new discovery or even suggestion of a new discovery
missed his instant and close attention. His avidity for learning was
insatiable,--his intense and insistent curiosity on all matters of
chemistry gave a knife-like edge to the quality of his brain, making it
sharp, brilliant and incisive. To him the ordinary social