"No, John, I cannot," she gently interposed.
The kindness in her tone half reassured him. He leaned eagerly forward to search her face, but knew instantly from the look in her sorrowful though unresponsive gray eyes that his hopes were vain.
"Oh, I might have known you never could forgive——" he began, when she interrupted him again.
"I have forgiven." Her voice was tremulous but very sweet. "I hold no bitterness against you in my heart—the last vestige was blotted out five years ago, as I then assured you, and to-day I realize that you are as worthy of my esteem as any other man who has resolutely overcome the errors of his past and is steadfastly adhering to high ideals and noble purposes. I can and do rejoice most heartily in the conquest you have won," she went on, speaking with more calmness—"in the fame and prosperity you have achieved, and which I am sure you will continue to win. But—John, the ties which once united us were too hopelessly severed to make it possible for us ever to piece them together again. When I pledged myself to you thirty years ago it was a lifelong vow I took. When the law annulled that union and—you formed other relations, it was the same to me as if death had claimed you—I gave you up, as absolutely and hopelessly as if you had literally been buried from my sight; it was an unconditional surrender—the bond that had united us was rent asunder, leaving a great gulf between us, and I knew that the void thus made could never be filled again. Then I took up my life to live it alone, and—thus I shall live until the end."
The man had stood before her while she spoke, with averted face and bowed head, which sank lower and lower as she proceeded, until it rested upon his breast, while his attitude was like one bereft of hope.
"I cannot bear it, Helen—even though I know the sentence is just," he faltered, at length breaking the silence. "It was through your heavenly compassion five years ago I gained a new lease of life, and that life I solemnly vowed should be spent in the effort to master the weaknesses that had been my ruin, and bereft me of all that a true man holds most sacred—family, home, and reputation. Clinging steadfastly to this resolve and your dauntless motto—'that there is hardly any situation in life so adverse that it cannot be overcome if one only goes to work in the right way'—I have conquered self in many ways. I have won a competence and some measure of renown as an artist; and my one inspiration throughout has been the hope of a blessed reunion with my dear ones. Failing in this, the future holds nothing but emptiness for me," he concluded dejectedly.
"The future holds all good for you, John," Helen returned, and, as once before during his illness, her voice was full of strength and encouragement. "You have, as you say, learned how to overcome—how to govern your life by principle instead of by impulse, and so have found your true manhood. And you will keep on in the same way, for, as we know, there is but one goal for us all—one ultimate attainment really worth living for—the full stature of the perfect man."
"But I wanted to atone to you—to take care of you—to bear burdens for you, as you once bore them for me; I want to make you happy, Helen——"
"You have already done that," she said, smiling up at him through eyes that were full of tears. "To know what you have been doing—what you have been achieving during the last five years—to see you as you are to-night—redeemed—gives me greater joy than you can realize."
He turned and walked away from her. He was crushed—almost on the point of breaking down utterly before her, notwithstanding his manhood, in view of this bitter disappointment. Yet he began to understand that the old ties, which he himself had so ruthlessly severed, could indeed never be pieced together again. There was between them a great gulf, in whose fathomless depths there lay a royal heart rent in twain, and a priceless love slain by his own reckless folly. How could he bear to live out his life bereft of all his fond hopes?