Part 53 (1/2)

”It was the best thing that he could do for himself; no doubt he guessed that eventually you would come to know.”

She stood thinking back into the past.

”After he had told, he kissed me,” she said; ”he had never done that before.” Her lips trembled and the tears ran down her face.

”You know enough now, my dear. That will not happen again.”

”I still love him,” she said, as though confessing to shame.

The Archbishop had sufficient wisdom to accept the statement without protest. ”It would be hard for you to do otherwise,” he said. ”The heart cannot change all at once.”

”I believed that with him I could do good.”

”Can you believe that now?”

”I don't know.”

”That sort of life enters the blood,” said her father, ”taints it, makes evil that which would otherwise be holy.”

”You mean----?”

”I speak of marriage; the drawing together of two into one.”

”It still is marriage.”

”Its mystery has been profaned. Marriage then, coming after, may be only a reminiscence of sin.”

She stood looking at him, her face very pale.

”I shall still have to ask him if it is true.”

The Archbishop resigned himself to what he could not avoid. ”If you must,” he said. And then, thinking forward to what might possibly happen, he added: ”It was my duty to tell you everything.”

”Yes,” she replied, ”but you did not mean to tell me at first.”

”I hoped that I might spare you,” he explained. ”These are not things that one speaks of willingly; if they can be avoided it is better that they should not be known.”

She gave a gesture of impatience, pressing her hands against her eyes.

”Do not say anything more to me,” she said, and her voice sounded hopeless and dead. ”Not now.”

And then, very slowly, she turned and went out of the room.

The Archbishop told himself that he had done his duty. Personal aggrandizement, great opportunities of power and social position he had put away, he had done a true and holy thing. And so he sat down and wrote to the Prime Minister.

CHAPTER XX

THE THORN AND THE FLESH