love affair, since, lacking the society of Agnes, there was nothing left
for him to desire. From a garden of roses, the world became a sandy
desert, and denied the sole gift of fortune, which would have made him
completely happy, the disconsolate lover foreswore society for solitude.
As some seek religion, so Lambert hoped by seeking Nature's breast to
assuage the pains of his sore heart. But although the great Mother could
do so much, she could not do all, and the young man still felt restless
and weary. Hard work helped him more than a little, but he had his dark
hours during those intervals when hand and brain were too weary to
create pictures.

In one way he blamed Agnes, because she had married for money; in
another way he did not blame her, because that same money had been
necessary to support the falling fortunes of the noble family to which
Lambert belonged. An ordinary person would not have understood this, and
would have seen in the mercenary marriage simply a greedy grasping after
the loaves and fishes. But Lambert, coming at the end of a long line of
lordly ancestors, considered that both he and his cousin owed something
to those of the past who had built up the family. Thus his pride told
him that Agnes had acted rightly in taking Pine as her husband, while
his love cried aloud that the sacrifice was too hard upon their
individual selves. He was a Lambert, but he was also a human being, and
the two emotions of love and pride strove mightily against one another.
Although quite three years had elapsed since the victim had been offered
at the altar--and a willing victim to the family fetish--the struggle
was still going on. And because of its stress and strain, Lambert
withdrew from society, so that he might see as little as possible of the
woman he loved. They had met, they had talked, they had looked, in a
conventionally light-hearted way, but both were relieved when
circumstances parted them. The strain was too great.