ring
that through Mrs. Parsons he had sent her in the pill-box on the
evening of their separation.

This was the only form of engagement that ever passed between them, the
truth being that from the moment he entered the place it was all taken
for granted, not only by themselves, but by everyone in the house,
including the wounded. With this development of an intelligent
instinct, it is possible that Mrs. Parsons had something to do.

CHAPTER XIX

MARRIAGE

In that atmosphere of perfect bliss Godfrey's cure was quick. For bliss
it was, save only that there was another bliss beyond to be attained.
Remember that this man, now approaching middle life, had never drunk of
the cup of what is known as love upon the earth.

Some might answer that such is the universal experience; that true,
complete love has no existence, except it be that love of God to which
a few at last attain, since in what we know as God completeness and
absolute unity can be found alone. Other loves all have their flaws,
with one exception perhaps, that of the love of the dead which fondly
we imagine to be unchangeable. For the rest passion, however exalted,
passes or at least becomes dull with years; the most cherished children
grow up, and in so doing, by the law of Nature, grow away; friends are
estranged and lost in their own lives.

Upon the earth there is no perfect love; it must be sought elsewhere,
since having the changeful shadows, we know there is a sky wherein
shines the sun that casts them.

Godfrey, as it chanced, omitting Isobel, had walked little even in
these sweet shadows. There were but three others for whom he had felt
devotion in all his days, Mrs. Parsons, his tutor, Monsieur Boiset, and
his friend, Arthur Thorburn, who was gone. Therefore to him Isobel was
everything. As a child he had adored her; as a woman she was his
desire, his faith and his worship.

If this were so with him, still more was it the case with Isobel, who
in truth cared for no other human being. Something in her nature
prevented her from contracting violent female friendships, and to all
men, except a few of ability, each of them old enough to be her father,
she was totally indifferent; indeed most of them repelled her. On
Godfrey, and Godfrey alone, from the first moment she saw him as a
child she had poured all the deep treasure of her heart. He was at once
her divinity and her other self, the segment that completed her life's
circle, without whic