On Wilford’s face there was no trace of tears. On the contrary, he seemed hardening into stone, and in his heart fierce passions were contending for the mastery. What did Katy mean by sending for Morris to take her away? Did she send for him, and was that the cause of his being there? If so, there was something between the cousins more than mere friendship. The thought was a maddening one. And, rising slowly at last, Wilford came round to Morris’s side, and grasping his shoulder, said,
“Morris Grant, you love Katy Cameron.”
Like the peal of a bell on the frosty air the words rang through the room, starting Morris from his bowed attitude, and for an instant curdling the blood in his veins, for he understood now the meaning of the look which had so puzzled him. In Morris’s heart there was a moment’s hesitancy to know just what to answer—an ejaculatory prayer for guidance—and then lifting up his head, his calm blue eyes met the eyes of black unflinchingly as he replied,
“I have loved her always.”
A blaze like sheet lightning shot from beneath Wilford’s eyelashes, and a taunting sneer curled his lip as he said,
“You, a saint, confess to this?”
It was in keeping with human nature for Wilford to thrust Morris’s religion in his face, forgetting that never on this side the eternal world can man cease wholly to sin; that so long as flesh and blood remain, there will be temptation, error, and wrong, even among God’s children. Morris felt the sneer keenly; but the consciousness of peace with his Maker sustained him in the shock, and with the same tone he had at first assumed, he said,
“Should my being what you call a saint prevent my confessing what I did?”
“No, not the confession, but the fact,” Wilford answered, savagely. “How do you reconcile your acknowledged love for Katy with the injunctions of the Bible whose doctrines you indorse?”
“A man cannot always control his feelings, but he can strive to overcome them and put them aside. One does not sin in being tempted, but in listening to the temptation.”