before it like waves before the wind.

"And I must suffer still," he went on half to himself. "I was sure that
God would give me that which I most desired, because I had given Him all
that belonged to me. I kept back nothing except as Monsignor ordered.
Through you, Honora, my faith in woman came back, as you said it would
when you answered the detective in my behalf. When Monsignor told me I
was free, that I could speak to you as an honorable man, I took it as a
sign from heaven that the greatest of God's gifts was for me. I love you
so, Honora, that your wish is my only happiness. Since you must go, if
it is the will of God, do not mind my suffering, which is also His
will...."

He arose from his place and his knees were shaking.

"There is consolation for us all somewhere. Mine is not to be here. The
road to heaven is sometimes long. Not here, Honora?"

The hope in him was not yet dead. She rose too and put her arms about
him, drawing his head to her bosom with sudden and overpowering
affection.

"Here and hereafter," she whispered, as they sat down on the bench
again.

* * * * *

"Judy," said Anne in the shade of the trees, "is Arthur hugging Honora,
or...."

"Glory be," whispered Judy with tears streaming down her face, "it's
Honora that's hugging Arthur ... no, it's both o' them at wanst, thanks
be to God."

And the two old ladies stole away home through the happy woods.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

THREE SCENES.

Anne might have been the bitterest critic of Honora for her descent from
the higher to the lesser life, but she loved the girl too well even to
look displeasure. Having come to believe that Arthur would be hers alone
forever, she regarded Honora's decision as a mistake. The whole world
rejoiced at the union of these ideal creatures, even Sister Magdalen,
from whom Arthur had snatched a prize. Honora was her own severest
critic. How she had let herself go in pity for a sufferer to whom her
people, her faith, her father, her friends, and herself owed much, she
knew not. His explanation was simple: God gave you to me.

The process of surrender really began at Louis' ordination. Arthur
watched his boy, the center of the august ceremony, with wet eyes. This
innocent heart, with its solemn aspirations, its spiritual beauty, had
always been for him a wonder and a delight; and it seemed fitting that a
life so mysteriously beautiful should end its novitiate and begin i