it down, stunned by the sudden
conviction that life is, after all, a very squalid thing--something that
I would like to kick like an old hat down a road.

'The conflict going on within me goes on within every man, but without
this conflict life would be superficial; we shouldn't know the deeper
life. Duty has its rewards as well as its pain, and the knowledge that I
am passing through a time of probationship sustains me. I know I shall
come out of it all a stronger man.

'OLIVER GOGARTY.'

After posting his letter he walked home, congratulating himself that he
had made it plain to her that he was not a man she could dupe. Her
letter was written plainly, and the more he thought of her letter the
clearer did it seem that it was inspired by Poole. But what could
Poole's reason be for wishing him to leave Ireland, to go abroad? It was
certain that if Poole were in love with Nora he would do all in his
power to keep a poor priest (was it thus they spoke of him?) in Ireland.
Poole might wish to make a fool of him, but what was her reason for
advising him to go abroad? Revenge was too strong a word.

In the course of the evening it suddenly struck him that, after all,
she might have written her letter with a view of inducing him to come to
Rome. She was so capricious that it was not impossible that she had
written quite sincerely, and wished him out there with her. She was so
many-sided, and he fell to thinking of her character, without being able
to arrive at any clear estimate of it, with this result, however--that
he could not drive out the belief that she had written him an insincere
letter. Or did she wish to revenge herself? The thought brought him to
his feet, for he could never forget how deeply he had wronged her--it
was through his fault that she had become Mr. Poole's secretary--maybe
his mistress. If he had not preached that sermon, she would be teaching
the choir in his parish. But, good heavens! what use was there in going
over all that again? He walked to the window and stood there watching
the still autumn weather--a dull leaden sky, without a ray of light upon
the grass, or a wind in the trees--thinking that these gray days
deprived him of all courage. And then he remembered suddenly how a
villager's horse coming from market had tripped and fallen by the
roadside. Would that he, too, might fall by the roadside, so weary was
he. 'If I could only make known my suffering, she would take pity on me;
but no o