quers, or is wholly beaten. It seemed to him this summer that he had
several distinct individualities. He was so deeply interested in Fred
and Sylvie! They had slipped into an easy friendship,--a friendship in
which neither crossed a certain line, but from widely different motives.
Fred's strongest and highest one was honor toward his friend. He began
dimly to realize that high culture and refinement of the intellectual
senses, a perfect state of outward finish and polish, did not always
strengthen the soul's morality and purity. Patience, self-sacrifice,
obedience to a creed simpler in words, and yet more comprehensive, than
any of his grand philosophies, were needed to form a strong and manful
soul. His had been so long bound about with swaddling-clothes, airy,
sensuous, fine as a gossamer web, yet strong in beliefs and prejudices.
There were times when he felt, through that instinctive knowledge we can
never wholly define or explain, that Sylvie Barry belonged to him, that
they two could reach a point in mental and artistic life, that she and
Jack would never attain. His whole soul cried out for her. With the
charm of self-satisfying and blinding theories swept away, he clung
passionately to the love that had been only a complacent fancy three
years ago. The mere touch of her hand, or glance of her eye, quickened
and kindled his entire soul, and made him acutely and agonizingly
conscious of the wealth of adoration he had hardly dreamed of
possessing. There were moments when her presence filled him with a
heavenly satisfaction, when he understood that divine fusion of spirit
with spirit in its entirety, when love overcame pride, and he was humble
enough to go to her in his poverty.

He tried honestly to crush out the passion, but found that neither will
nor duty could destroy love. It rose up and swept imperiously through
every pulse of his being, it flooded his heart like a mighty current, it
would fain have drowned out his sense of honor to his friend; and he
learned presently that it was of no avail to fight battles with this
unconquerable foe. He must always love her, therefore he could only bury
the passion out of the sight of all other eyes. To him it would be the
root of higher resolves and purer motives. When he had made this great
sacrifice for his friend, he had offered silently the highest atonement
in his power.

But his temptation was not to end so soon. He was to be led through the
fire, that he might b