whole world, differs from that which is sacred to the eyes
of one human being, and that the one who lies nearest the heart.

As Paula's retreating footsteps died away on the stairs, and he awoke to
the full consciousness that his secret was shared by her whose love was
his life, and whose good opinion had been his incentive and his pride,
his first sensation was one of unmitigated anguish, but his next,
strange to say, that of a restful relief. He had cast aside the cloak he
had hugged so closely to his breast these many years, and displayed to
her shrinking gaze the fox that was gnawing at his vitals; and Spartan
though he was, the dew that had filled her loving eyes was balm to him.
And not only that; he had won claim to the title of true man. Her
regard, if regard it remained, was no longer an airy fabric built upon a
plausible seeming, but a firm structure with knowledge for its
foundation. "I shall not live to whisper, 'If she knew my whole life,
would she love me so well?'"

His first marriage had been so wholly uncongenial and devoid of
sympathy, that his greatest longing in connection with a fresh contract,
was to enjoy the full happiness of perfect union and mutual trust; and
though he could never have summoned up courage to take her into his
confidence, unsolicited, now that it had been done he would not have it
undone, no, not if by the doing he had lost her confidence and
affection.

But something told him he had not lost it. That out of the darkness and
the shock of this very discovery, a new and deeper love would spring,
which having its birth in human frailty and human repentance, would gain
in the actual what it lost in the ideal, bringing to his weary,
suffering and yearning man's nature, the honest help of a strong and
loving sympathy, growing trust, and sweetest because wisest
encouragement.

It was therefore, with a growing sense of deep unfathomable comfort, and
a reverent thankfulness for the mercies of God, that he sat by the fire
idly watching the rise and fall of the golden flames above the
fluttering ashes of his rival's letter, and dreaming with a hallowing
sense of his unworthiness, upon the possible bliss of coming days.
Happiness in its truest and most serene sense was so new to him, it
affected him like the presence of something strangely commanding. He was
awe-struck before it, and unconsciously bowed his head at its
contemplation. Only his eyes betrayed the peace that comes with all