"I will see you to your carriage."
On the threshold she turned, included Paul in a vague bow to the company, and passed through the door which Colonel Winwood held open. Paul watched her until she disappeared—disappeared haughtily out of his life, taking his living heart with her, leaving him with a stone very heavy, very cold, dead. And he was smitten as with a great darkness. He remained quite still for a few moments after the door had closed, then with a sudden jerk he drew himself up.
"Mr. Finn," said he, "as I've told you, I address my first meeting to-night. I am going to make public the fact that I'm your son."
Silas put his hand to his head and looked at him wildly.
"No, no," he muttered hoarsely—"no."
"I see no reason," said Miss Winwood gently.
"I see every reason," said Paul. "I must live in the light now. The truth or nothing."
"Then obey your conscience, Paul," she answered.
But Silas came forward with his outstretched hands.
"You can't do it. You can't do it, I tell you. It's impossible."