the truth in its entirety isn't given
to man to know--such knowledge, no doubt, would be beyond human
endurance. But we make a step towards it, when we learn that there is
rottenness and evil in the world, masquerading as right and
morality--when we learn to know the living spirit from the dead
letter. I have not cared to stop in this struggle of life to question.
You, perhaps, wouldn't dare to alone. Together, dear one, we will work
it out. Be sure there is a way--we may not find it in the end, but we
will at least have tried."

XVII

Conclusion.

One month after their meeting on the train, Hosmer and Therese had
gone together to Centerville where they had been made one, as the
saying goes, by the good Pere Antoine; and without more ado, had
driven back to Place-du-Bois: Mr. and Mrs. Hosmer. The event had
caused more than the proverbial nine days' talk. Indeed, now, two
months after, it was still the absorbing theme that occupied the
dwellers of the parish: and such it promised to remain till supplanted
by something of sufficient dignity and importance to usurp its place.

But of the opinions, favorable and other, that were being exchanged
regarding them and their marriage, Hosmer and Therese heard little and
would have cared less, so absorbed were they in the overmastering
happiness that was holding them in thralldom. They could not yet bring
themselves to look at it calmly--this happiness. Even the intoxication
of it seemed a thing that promised to hold. Through love they had
sought each other, and now the fulfillment of that love had brought
more than tenfold its promise to both. It was a royal love; a generous
love and a rich one in its revelation. It was a magician that had
touched life for them and changed it into a glory. In giving them to
each other, it was moving them to the fullness of their own
capabilities. Much to do in two little months; but what cannot love
do?

"Could it give a woman more than this?" Therese was saying softly to
herself. Her hands were clasped as in prayer and pressed together
against her bosom. Her head bowed and her lips touching the
intertwined fingers. She spoke of her own emotion; of a certain sweet
turmoil that was stirring within her, as she stood out in the soft
June twilight waiting for her husband to come. Waiting to hear the new
ring in his voice that was like a song of joy. Waiting to see that new
strength and courage in his face, of whose significance she los