candy cane instead of preserving it superstitiously
through barren years!

He knew that he had awakened too late for more than a fleeting vision of
what would have made his life full. Now he must be off, up the path
again, this time knowing certainly that the woman would never more stand
waiting and wondering at the end, to embitter his renunciations. The
woman was definitely gone. That was something, even though she went with
that absurd, unreasoning, womanish suspicion. And he had one free, dear
look from her to keep through the empty days.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE FELL FINGER OF CALUMNY SEEMS TO BE AGREEABLY DIVERTED

Shut in his study, the rector of St. Antipas paced the floor with nicely
measured steps, or sat at his desk to make endless squares, circles, and
triangles. He was engrossed in the latter diversion when he heard the
bell sound below. He sat back to hear the steps of the maid, the opening
of the door; then, after an interval, her steps ascending the stairs and
stopping at his own door; then her knock.

"A letter for Mr. Bernal, sir!"

He glanced at the envelope she held, noting its tint.

"He's not here Nora. Take it to Mrs. Linford. She will know where he
is."

He heard her go down the hall and knock at another door. She was
compelled to knock twice, and then there was delay before the door
opened.

He drew some pages of manuscript before him and affected to be busy at a
work of revision, crossing out a word here, interlining one there,
scanning the result with undivided attention.

When he heard a knock he did not look up, but said, "Come!" Though still
intent at his work, he knew that Nancy stood there, looking from the
letter to him.

"Nora said you sent this letter to me--it's for Bernal--"

He answered, still without looking up,

"I thought he might be with you, or that you might know where he was."

"I don't."

He knew that she studied the superscription of the envelope.

"Well, leave it here on my desk till he comes. I sent it to you only
because I heard him inquiring if a letter had not come for him--he
seemed rather anxious about some letter--troubled, in fact--doubtless
some business affair. I hoped this might be what he was expecting."

His eyes were still on the page before him, and he crossed out a word
and wrote another above it, after a meditative pause. Still the woman at
the door hesitated.

"Did you chance to notice the address on the envelope?"

He glanced