He had been convinced that celibacy was the only road to salvation
for a priest, until Stella Rawson's fair young charms had
unconsciously undermined this conviction. But even if he had been
able to arrange his conscience to his liking upon the vital point,
he felt he must fight bravely against allowing himself or his
betrothed to get any pleasure out of the affair. It was better to
marry than to burn, he had St. Paul's authority for this--but when
he felt emotion toward Stella because of her loveliness, he was
afterward very uncomfortable in his thoughts, and it took him at
least an hour to throw dust in his own eyes in regard to the
nature of his desire for her, which he determined to think was
only of the spirit. Love, for him, was no god to be exalted, but a
too strong beast to be resisted, and every one of his rites were
to be succumbed to shamefacedly and under protest. Thus did he
criticize the scheme of his Creator like many another before him.

He sat now in the hall of the Grand Hotel at Rome feeling ill at
ease and expressed some mild disapproval of the surroundings to
Mrs. Ebley, who fired up at once. She was secretly enjoying
herself extremely, and allowed the drains to assume gigantic
proportions in her reasons for their choice of abode. So there was
nothing more to be said, and Stella, looking rather pale,
presently came down the steps from the corridor where their lift
was situated, and joined the group in the far corner of the large
hall.

She was so slender and fresh and graceful, and, even in the week's
sight-seeing in Paris, she seemed to have picked up a new air,
though she wore the same gray Sunday dress her fiance was
accustomed to see at home--it appeared to be put on differently,