She shuddered when he took a step toward her and held out a thin white hand to her. She touched it slowly with her own.
“Nelly,” he said, “there is a joy in self-sacrifice beyond any that the world can give. I look on you as one of my children—one of that Household of Faith who have told me that they had learned the Truth from my lips. My child, if you were called on to make any great sacrifice for the Truth, would you not make it? Although I may seem an austere man to you, I do not live so far apart from those who are dear to me as to be incapable of sympathising with them in all matters of their daily life. I think you knew that or you would not have confessed to me that you fancied your love had suffered a change.”
She rose from her chair, and passed a hand wearily across her face.
“A fancy—it was a fancy—a dream—oh, the most foolish dream that ever a maiden had,” she said. “Has it ever been known that a maiden fancied she loved the shadow of a dream when all the time her heart was given to a true man?”
“Dear child, have you awakened?” he asked.
“My dreaming time is past,” she replied.
“I may bid Captain Snowdon to enter?” he said.
“Not yet—not yet—I must be alone; I will see him in another hour.”
He kissed her on the forehead, and went with unfaltering feet into the sunshine.