u were
the only woman in the world,--you are now. You are the fulfilment of
my dreams, longing, hopes, ideals. You are all the world.'

The two walked on side by side, neither speaking for some time after
this. Perhaps Lorna Bolivick was frightened,--perhaps she was
wondering how she could at once be kind, and still make him see the
foolishness of what he had said.

'I am glad you are silent,' went on Edgecumbe, 'for your silence helps
me. Do you know, when I came to England,--that is, when I saw Luscombe
for the first time, I had no thought of God except in a vague, shadowy
way. Something, I don't know what, had obliterated Him from my
existence,--if ever He had an existence to me, and for months
afterwards I never thought of Him. Then I went into a Y.M.C.A. hut in
France, where a man spoke about Him, and I caught the idea. It was
wonderful,--wonderful! Presently I found Him, found Him in reality,
and He illumined the whole of my life. I read that wonderful story of
how He sent His Son to reveal Him,--I saw His love in the life and
death of Jesus Christ,--and life has never been the same to me since
then. But something was wanting, even then; something human, something
that was necessary to complete life. Then I saw you, and you completed
it.

'I don't know whether men call you beautiful, or not,--that doesn't
matter. You have not come into my life like an angel, but as a woman,
a human woman. I know nothing about you, and yet I know everything.
You are the one woman God meant for me, you fill my life,--you
glorify it. You mustn't think of marrying anybody else, it would
be sacrilege if you did. Such a love as mine wasn't intended to be
discarded,--mustn't be,--can't be.'

'Mr. Edgecumbe,' she said quietly, 'I think we had better return to the
house.'

'No, don't let us go back yet; there are other things I want to say';
and he walked steadily on. She still kept by his side,--perhaps she
was not so much influenced by his words, as the way he said them, for I
knew by the look in his eyes when he told me his story, and by what I
felt at the recital of it, that there was a strange intensity, a
wonderful magnetism, in his presence.

'I am very ignorant,' he continued presently, 'about the ways of the
world. I suppose I must have known at one time, for Luscombe tells me
that I generally do what might be expected of a gentleman, although
sometimes I make strange mistakes. The loss of one's memory, I