lover, not of this shrouded unknown, that I was penniless and outcast,
that I was hungry, ignorant, uncertain, unforgiven. I think that, in
some indefinable way, the spirit of Aurelia may have been about me,
pervading this cold church, linking me and that other; I think that
Aurelia's soul may have whispered to mine, "Behold thy duty there." I
cannot tell. But this I may say with truth, that when the thin hands at
the rail unclasped and one made the cross over the form that knelt so
lonely there; when the woman lifted her head, and slowly rising, turned
and came up the church; when our looks met, and I found my eyes
searching the grave face and sombre eyes of Virginia, that unhappy child
for whom I had spent my last gold piece--I was neither startled nor
disappointed, but felt rather that I had known all along that it was
she.

I assume that I was in that exalted frame of mind which I have
endeavoured to describe. This young girl's eyes, fixed upon me, appeared
like beacons in that dark place, sullen fires lit at night to warn me
that I was still upon sentry duty about her person. "Money! Can a soul
be saved by money? The enemy is hungry about the wall," said the eyes of
Virginia, "be steadfast, on the watch." Neither of us gave recognition
of the other, neither of us spoke; but when she was level with me, I
turned and walked by her side to the door. I held the curtain back for
her to pass out; she bowed her head and accepted the service as
seriously as a princess. Together we went down the steps, side by side
we crossed the piazza, took the main street, turned to the right under
an archway and went down a steep and narrow lane--all this in perfect
silence. We reached a little piazza, a bay in the lane, raised upon a
parapet from the road level. Here, breaking our long and nervous
abstinence, Virginia stopped, saying, "I am tired; let us sit down."