must not break through, his pain was so great as to almost unman him,
and such tears as only men can weep fell from his eyes. In anguish he
exclaimed, "That which might have been the chief blessing of life has
become my greatest misfortune."

Above him the gale caused two fraying limbs to appear to moan in echo
of the suffering beneath.

"This then must be the end of my prayers in her behalf--my ardent
hope and purpose to lead her to the truth--she to walk through honored,
sunny paths to everlasting shame and night, and I through dark and
painful ways to light and peace, if in this bitter test I remain
faithful. Surely there _is_ much to try one's faith. And yet it must be
so as far as human foresight can judge."

Then a great pity for her swelled his heart, for he felt that her case
was the saddest after all, and his tears flowed faster than ever.

Human voices now startled him--some late revellers passing homeward.
The tears and emotion, of which we never think of being ashamed when
alone with Nature and its Author, he dreaded to have seen by his
fellows, and hastily wiping his eyes, he slunk into the deeper shadow
of the tree, and they passed on. Then, an old trait asserting itself,
he condemned his own weakness. Stepping from the sheltering trunk
against which he was leaning, he stood strong and erect.

The winds were hushed as if expectant in the branches above.

"Dennis Fleet," he said, "you must put your foot on this folly here
and now."