ether.

But a second of introspection had the alarming result of showing him
that his mind, when looked at from within, was no longer familiar
ground. He felt, that is to say, what he had never consciously felt
before; he was revealed to himself as other than he was wont to think
him; he was afloat upon a sea of unknown and tumultuous possibilities.
He paced once up and down the room, and then flung himself impetuously
into the chair by Katharine's side. He had never felt anything like
this before; he put himself entirely into her hands; he cast off all
responsibility. He very nearly exclaimed aloud:

"You've stirred up all these odious and violent emotions, and now you
must do the best you can with them."

Her near presence, however, had a calming and reassuring effect upon his
agitation, and he was conscious only of an implicit trust that, somehow,
he was safe with her, that she would see him through, find out what it
was that he wanted, and procure it for him.

"I wish to do whatever you tell me to do," he said. "I put myself
entirely in your hands, Katharine."

"You must try to tell me what you feel," she said.

"My dear, I feel a thousand things every second. I don't know, I'm sure,
what I feel. That afternoon on the heath--it was then--then--" He broke
off; he did not tell her what had happened then. "Your ghastly good
sense, as usual, has convinced me--for the moment--but what the truth
is, Heaven only knows!" he exclaimed.

"Isn't it the truth that you are, or might be, in love with Cassandra?"
she said gently.

William bowed his head. After a moment's silence he murmured:

"I believe you're right, Katharine."

She sighed, involuntarily. She had been hoping all this time, with an
intensity that increased second by second against the current of her
words, that it would not in the end come to this. After a moment of
surprising anguish, she summoned her courage to tell him how she wished
only that she might help him, and had framed the first words of
her speech when a knock, terrific and startling to people in their
overwrought condition, sounded upon the door.

"Katharine, I worship you," he urged, half in a whisper.

"Yes," she replied, withdrawing with a little shiver, "but you must open
the door."

CHAPTER XXIII

When Ralph Denham entered the room and saw Katharine seated with her
back to him, he was conscious of a change in the grade of the atmosphere
such as a traveler meets with sometim