than a member of the
same family. He went on to speak of the other visits which he had paid
to Ruth, telling how fast his love had grown with every meeting. He
ended with the revelation at the dance in the woods.

"But it wouldn't have made any difference had I known sooner. It
couldn't have made any difference in my loving her," he said. "I must
have loved her just the same no matter when or how we might have met.
Nothing ever could have altered that. I am afraid that I couldn't have
helped loving her had she been another man's wife. I am keeping nothing
back, you see, Father. I am telling you the whole truth. But perhaps it
wouldn't have been quite so hard to bear, had I known at the very first.
It can hardly be so hard to give up happiness when we have never dared
long for it. And I knew no reason why I might not try to make her love
me. As it is, from this time on, every thought of her must be like
constantly trying to kill some suffering thing that can never die!"

He dropped his head on his arm which lay on the table. The priest gently
laid his hand on the thick, brown hair.

"My son," he murmured.

"If the man that she is to marry were only different," Paul groaned. "If
he were only more worthy, if I could only think that she would be
happy."

He did not know that he was merely saying what every unfortunate lover
has thought since love and the world began; and it was a sad smile that
touched the sympathy of Father Orin's face.

"William Pressley is not a bad young fellow," the priest said. "He means
well. He lives uprightly according to his dull, narrow ideas of right.
And none of us can do any better than to live up to our own ideals.
It's a good deal more than most of us do. I am afraid he is selfish,"
with the hesitation which he always felt in pronouncing judgment upon
any one; "but then most of us men are, and maybe he will not be selfish
toward her, for he must be fond of her. Everybody loves the child."

"But about her--is she fond of him? How can she be?"

"I can't answer for that. There's no telling about a girl's fancy; in
fact, I have never given the engagement a thought. It was all settled;
it seemed a good, suitable arrangement--"

"Arrangement!" groaned Paul.

Father Orin shook his head. "It was most likely Philip Alston who
brought it about. He doubtless thought it a wise choice for both the
young people. He certainly never would have consented if he had not
believed it to be for Ruth's