r dress to shake and the
gold Mexican gods on her necklace to tinkle against each other. Then
she grew still as a stone, and raising those large and steady eyes of
hers, looked him up and down, finally fixing them upon his own.

"Is that true?" she asked.

"True! It is as true as life and death, or as Heaven and Hell."

"I don't know anything about Heaven and Hell; they are hypothetical,
are they not? Life and death are enough for me," and she stopped.

"Then by life and death, for life and death, and for ever, I love you,
Isobel."

"Thank you," she said, and stopped once more.

"You don't help one much. Have you nothing to say?"

"What is there to say? You made a statement for which I thanked you.
You asked no question."

"It is a question," he exclaimed indignantly. "If I love you, of course
I want to know if you love me."

"Then why did you not say so? But," she added very deliberately, "since
you want to know, I do and always have and always shall, in life or
death--and for ever--if that means anything."

He stared at her, tried to utter something and failed. Then he fell
back upon another very primitive and ancient expedient. Flinging his
arms about her, he pressed her to his heart and kissed her again and
again and again; nor, in her moment of complete surrender, did she
scruple to kiss him back.

It was while they were thus engaged, offering a wonderful spectacle of
love triumphant and rejoicing in its triumph, that another person who
was passing the church bethought him of its shelter as a refuge from
the pouring rain. Seeing the open door, Mr. Knight, for it was he,
slipped into the great building in his quiet, rather cat-like fashion,
but on its threshold saw, and stopped. Notwithstanding the shadows, he
recognised them in a moment. More, the sight of this pair, the son whom
he disliked and the woman whom he hated, thus embraced, thus lost in a
sea of passion, moved him to white fury, so that he lifted his clenched
hands above his head and shook them, muttering:

"And in my church, _my_ church!"

Then unable to bear more of this spectacle, he slipped away again,
heedless of the pouring skies.

By nature, although in obedience to a rash promise once he had married,
Mr. Knight was a true woman-hater. That sex and everything to do with
it were repellent to him. Even the most harmless manifestations of
natural affection between male and female he considered disgusting,
indeed indecent, and if the