of touch with all wholesome appetites of earth,
whose distorted nature sought an alien rest and solace.

Of Mary herself, also, it might be narrated how, after first mocking
at the thought and next thrusting it away, by degrees she grew to
appreciate the reality of the mysterious foreign influence which reigned
in her home. It might be told how in that spiritual atmosphere, shedding
its sleepy indolence, her own spirit awoke and grew conscious and
far-seeing, till impressions and hints which in the old days she would
have set aside as idle, became for her pregnant with light and meaning.
Then at last her eyes were opened, and understanding much and guessing
more she began to watch. The attitude of the Colonel also could be
studied, and how he grew first suspicious, then sarcastic, and at last
thoroughly alarmed, even to his ultimate evacuation of the Abbey House,
detailed at length.

But to the chronicler of these doings and of their unusual issues at any
rate, it appears best to resist a natural temptation; to deny the desire
to paint such closing scenes in petto. Much more does this certainty
hold of their explanation. Enough has been said to enable those in whom
the spark of understanding may burn, to discover by its light how much
is left unsaid. Enough has been hinted at to teach how much there
is still to guess. At least few will deny that some things are best
abandoned to the imagination. To attempt to drag the last veil from the
face of Truth in any of her thousand shapes is surely a folly predoomed
to failure. From the beginning she has been a veiled divinity, and
veiled, however thinly, she must and will remain. Also, even were it
possible thus to rob her, would not her bared eyes frighten us?

It was late, very late, and there, pale and haggard in the low light of
the fire, once again Morris stood pleading with the radiant image which
his heart revealed.

"Oh, speak! speak!" he moaned aloud. "I weary of those pictures. They
are too vast; they crush me. I grow weak. I have no strength left to
fight against the power of this fearful life that is discovered. I
cannot bear this calm everlasting life. It sucks out my mortality as
mists are sucked up by the sun. Become human. Speak. Let me touch your
hand. Or be angry. Only cease smiling that awful smile, and take those
solemn eyes out of my heart. Oh, my darling, my darling! remember that I
am still a man. In pity answer me before I die."

Then a low