Allen rose from his chair and walked slowly towards the window, where he stood looking out at the green lawn, the brilliant sunshine. In his then mood of self-torture and sorrow, the brightness of the day seemed a cruel contrast to his own dark thoughts. His life was over, his joys were at an end; a deadly trouble, greater than he could bear, had come upon him. Yet the flowers bloomed, the birds sang, the sunlight bathed stretches of green grass and clumps of stately trees in its golden rays, as in mockery of his puny grief and trivial ruin. The contrast struck him as so ironical that he burst into bitter laughter; but the mirth thus wrung from his breaking heart ended in a sigh of regret.
"Why do you laugh, Allen?" asked Dora, scared by this cruel merriment. "Why do you not answer?"
"I laugh because of the contrast between the joy of Nature and our own sorrows," he replied, turning his pale face towards her, "and I did not reply because I was thinking."
"You heard what I said?"
He took her hands within his own, and looked at her anguished face with a great love in his eyes.
"I heard you, and I agree," said he softly. "God bless you for a good woman, Dora, for you have behaved nobly. Many a woman would have cast me off in scorn for my refusal to speak. But you are content to wait in hope. Alas, my darling!" he cried, with a burst of sorrow; "there is no hope; there never can be hope. You and I are parted as surely as though the one were following the other to the graveyard."
"But, Allen, we have committed no sin. Why should we part?"
"Because of the sins of others. Our trouble comes from the past, Dora, and it was that dead man who revealed it to me. Did I tell you what he said, you would agree with me that the only thing left to us is to kiss and part. But I dare not tell you; in mercy to yourself I spare you the burden of the secret which has made my life so bitter."
"I know that you act in all kindness, Allen, but you are wrong. It would be better to tell me all, and let me share your troubles. I am strong; I can bear anything."
"Not this, not this," replied Allen, releasing her hands and going to the door; "it would wreck your life, your happiness, as it has wrecked mine."