me. It
is too sudden, your returning like this. You must give me time. I do not
know what I believe. Oh, dear God, help me."

"Isabel, promise! promise! Before Christmas! I thought it was all to be
so happy, when I came in through the garden just now. My mother will
hardly speak to me; and I came to you, Isabel, as I always did; I felt so
sure you would be good to me; and tell me that you would always love me,
now that I had given up my religion for love of you. And now----" and
Hubert's voice ended in a sob.

Her heart seemed rent across, and she drew a sobbing sigh. Hubert heard
it, and caught at her hands again as he knelt.

"Isabel, promise, promise."

Then there came that gust of purpose into her heart again; she made a
determined effort and stood up; and Hubert rose and stood opposite her.

"You must not ask me," she said, bravely. "It would be wicked to decide
yet. I cannot see anything clearly. I do not know what I believe, nor
where I stand. You must give me time."

There was a dead silence. His face was so much in shadow that she could
not tell what he was thinking. He was standing perfectly still.

"Then that is all the answer you will give me?" he said, in a perfectly
even voice.

Isabel bowed her head.

"Then--then I wish you good-night, Mistress Norris," and he bowed to her,
caught up his cap and went out.

She could not believe it for a moment, and caught her breath to cry out
after him as the door closed; but she heard his step on the stone
pavement outside, the crunch of the gravel, and he was gone. Then she
went and leaned her head against the curved mantelshelf and stared into
the logs that his hands had piled together.

This, then, she thought, was the work of religion; the end of all her
aspirations and efforts, that God should mock them by bringing love into
their life, and then when they caught at it and thanked him for it, it
was whisked away again, and left their hands empty. Was this the Father
of Love in whom she had been taught to believe, who treated His children
like this? And so the bitter thoughts went on; and yet she knew in her
heart that she was powerless; that she could not go to the door and call
Hubert and promise what he asked. A great Force had laid hold of her, it
might be benevolent or not--at this moment she thought not--but it was
irresistible; and she must bow her head and obey.

And even as she thought that, the door opened again, and there was
Hubert. He came