"She received me in the same room. This time she was snugly settled in a large, easy chair, and the unbound glory of her hair swept down over the rich-hued house dress which she wore. This visit was considerably longer than the first. You know that a family physician very often shares the most intimate confidences of his patients. This day she told me something of her life; enough to lead me to believe that she was unhappily married, and that she and her husband were not congenial. A ready resentment sprang up in me towards the man who could call this superb being his, and then neglect her. So the wiles of Delilah were employed again, though at the time I did not suspect her.
"Then there grew in my heart a strange passion for this woman. Love strove to mount, but it quickly discovered that that which it was called upon to meet was not love. Then the devils of the flesh tore at me and strove to drive me on—to utter and complete damnation! They had arisen insiduously, arming themselves as they advanced, and I soon found myself in the throes of a struggle as old as the world of creation, and more difficult to overcome than any foe which might appear from without. These devils haunted, harassed, goaded and tortured me. They drove me to her again and again, and again and again I withstood them, holding fast to the sense of right within me, and striking back with all the moral strength of my nature. Then one day it was borne in upon me that I must yield—or retreat. No mere mortal could continue to face this most powerful of all earthly temptations, and keep himself unspotted. The last night we were together in Jericho she confessed her love for me, and offered me the bitter-sweet joy of her arms. Then a living God of mercy gave me the victory. Long ago I knew I did not love her. I knew that my feeling for her was born in hell—in the blackest and foulest corner thereof! She stood before me arrayed in voluptuous robes, the splendour of her perfect physical beauty dazzling me cruelly, and told me unabashed that she was mine, body and soul! I swear to you that I had never said one word of love to her. I looked upon her, and the devils surged to the attack with thong and goad. But I did not raise my hands from my sides. I fought them back and after a while found my voice and told her this could not be. With the spoken words my strength returned, and I left her thus, without farewell. The next night I came to Macon."
The deep, resonant tones ceased. The silence in the room was acute. Not even the sound of breathing was audible.
"I found you, whom God sent to be my salvation. The battle was not ended, though I had put the visible cause of it away. But memory will not die, and the eyes of the mind constantly behold the visions of yesterday. Now came the fight to stay away, and I found it just as hard to win as the other. Had it not been for you, and the hope which I allowed to find root in my soul, I would surely have succumbed. But this hope grew, a pure, white flower, and it banished the noisome weeds of grosser birth. Then a day came when I knew the old influence and the wild longing no more, for love had found me and had reclaimed me from the morass into which I had strayed. I need not tell you that I have gone through perditions of living fire! You, sweet girl, know nothing of this. But what I said to you upon the lawn not many days ago I say to you again tonight—I have come through clean! It is not a debauched body and a rotten soul I am bringing as my offering to you tonight. High heaven bear me witness that all I say is true! I do not claim any especial worthiness, but I do disclaim and declare false the libelous stories which Devil Marston brought from Jericho! You have heard the truth, and I am glad that at last you know."
An inflection almost of despair quivered through his last words. The girl before him was motionless, but now a rigour shook her from head to foot, then passed, and she was still looking down, apparently unmoved, and lifeless.
"There is yet another incident."
He spoke in a dead voice, without ring or timbre. He was hopeless, yet nerved to go to the last bitter dreg of confession.
"I saw her once while you were in the East with your sick friend—a few days before the fair. It was quite accidental. I had a call from the Maddoxes one evening. She was there—had come as a visitor for the races—some sort of relative. As I was leaving the house a servant told me a friend wished to see me in the parlour. I did not remain long. The old charm was there, and I should have been lost without the protection of your spirit, which armed me as I had never been armed before. When I started to leave the room she attempted to detain me, but I thrust her aside, and went out. That is the whole story, and horrible enough it seems to me! I dare not think what it must seem to you—you sweet, sheltered flower! Now that this miserable tale is told, I come tonight and offer you my love. It is a most tender feeling I harbour for you, Julia; a possessive, protective, jealous love, which would forever hold you safe and blameless; which would forever cradle you in the house of my heart, deep-walled and warm. Nothing that would hurt, or harm, or blight, or frighten, or pain you should reach you in that sheltered fold within my breast. Won't you say that you will come—you poor, little storm-beaten lamb, and give me the deep, dear joy of loving you and ministering unto you always?"
He did not approach her. He had no right. His confession stood like a wall between them until she should speak. Her face was burning now. He could see her flushed cheeks and tinted temples. That she still refrained from meeting his eyes kindled a faint flame of hope.
"This is a strange story for a girl to hear," she said, speaking each word low, but distinctly. "I forgive you for the deception about the money. Uncle Arthur has returned wealthy, and we can refund that to you soon. But—" she raised her head and looked at him—"can I forgive the rest?"