CHAPTER XXIII.
There come moments in the lives of all of us when we feel as if a restraining and powerful hand were pulling us up short. We have come to a full stop; we cannot go back, and we do not know how to proceed. These full stops in life's journey are generally awful places. We meet there, as a rule, the devil and his angels—they tear us and rend us, they shake us to our very depths with awful and overpowering temptation; if we yield, it is all over with us, we rush at headlong speed downhill.
But, on the other hand, if in this pause we turn our back upon the devil, good angels come in his place—they whisper of hope and a new chance in life even for us.
When Effie left George on that miserable evening, and when Lawson retired presently to his room, the young man found that he had come to such a fearful place of trial as I have just described. He was pulled up short, and the devil was tempting him. At one side was the devil, at the other he saw the face of his mother. It was impossible for him to lie down and sleep. He fought with the devil all night. In the morning there was neither victory nor defeat, but the young, smooth face looked haggard and gray, and the upright, well-knit figure was bowed.
Lawson came into the sitting room for a moment.
"I am sorry I can't stay with you, George," he said. "I am due at St. Joseph's at nine o'clock. Have you made any plans for yourself?"
"No—at least, yes. I've had an awful night, Lawson, and there seems to be but one end to it."
"What is that?"