self and to me in other things, will be true in this I know. This feeling is stronger than all else—so strong that I have feared and failed to comprehend it. I had not even thought of it until it came upon me with fearful force, and I am conscious that it has not reached its height jet. It is not an ignoble passion, I know. How could a passion for such a creature be ignoble? And yet again, there have been times when I have felt that perhaps it was best to struggle against it. I am beset on every side, as I have said, and I appeal to you. Ought love to be stronger than all else? I used to tell myself so, before it came upon me—and now I can only wonder at myself and tremble to find that I have grown weak."
God knows it was a hard question he had asked of the man who loved him; but this man did not hesitate to answer it as freely as if he had bad no thought that he was signing the death-warrant of all hopes for himself. Grace went to him and laid a hand upon his broad shoulder.
"Come, sit down and I will tell you," he said, with a pallid face.
Derrick obeyed his gentle touch with a faint smile.
"I am too fiery and tempestuous, and you want to cool me," he said. "You are as gentle as a woman, Grace."
The curate standing up before him, a slight, not at all heroic figure in his well worn, almost threadbare garments, smiled in return.
"I want to answer your question," he said, "and my answer is this: When a man loves a woman wholly, truly, purely, and to her highest honor,—such a love is the highest and noblest thing in this world, and nothing should lead to its sacrifice,—no ambition, no hope, no friendship."
