You are playing your role well," said he; "too well. What was that I
heard about your marrying?"

The time had come. I was determined to meet it with a man's courage. But
I found it hard. Felix is no easy man to cross, even in small things,
and this thing is his life, nay, more--his past, present, and future
existence.

I do not know who spoke first. There was some stammering, a few broken
words; then I heard myself saying distinctly, and with a certain hard
emphasis born of the restraint I put upon myself:

"I love her! I want to marry her. You must allow this. Then----"

I could not proceed. I felt the shock he had received almost as if it
had been communicated to me by contact. Something that was not of the
earth seemed to pass between us, and I remember raising my hand as if to
shield my face. And then, whether it was the blowing aside of some
branches which kept the moonlight from us, or because my eyesight was
made clearer by my emotion, I caught one glimpse of his face and became
conscious of a great suffering, which at first seemed the wrenching of
my own heart, but in another moment impressed itself upon me as that of
his, Felix's.

I stood appalled.

My weakness had uprooted the one hope of his life, or so I thought; and
that he expressed this by silence made my heart yearn toward him for the
first time since I recognized him as my brother. I tried to stammer some
excuse. I was glad when the darkness fell again, for the sight of his
bowed head and set features was insupportable to me. It seemed to make
it easier for me to talk; for me to dilate upon the purity, the goodness
which had robbed me of my heart in spite of myself. My heart! It seemed
a strange word to pass between us two in reference to a Poindexter, but
it was the only one capable of expressing the feeling I had for this
young girl. At last, driven to frenzy by his continued silence, which
had something strangely moving in it, I cried:

"You have never loved a woman, Felix. You do not know what the passion
is when it seizes upon a man jaded with the hollow pleasures of an
irresponsible life. You cannot judge; therefore you cannot excuse. You
are made of iron----"

"Hush!" It was the first word he had spoken since I had opened my heart
to him. "You do not know what you are saying, Thomas. Like all egotists,
you think yourself alone in experience and suffering. Will you think so
when I tell you that there was a time in my life when I did not