for ever. A false start robs us of our natural
strength, and a misplaced or unrighteous love deadens the soul and
shipwrecks just conceptions of life.

A man may be forgiven for a sin, but the effect remains; it has found
its place in his constitution, and it cannot be displaced by mere
penitence, nor yet forgiveness. A man errs, and he must suffer; his
father erred, and he must endure; or some one sinned against the man,
and he hid the sin--But here a hand touched my shoulder! I was startled,
for my thoughts had been far away. Roscoe's voice spoke in my ear: "It
is as she said; the actors come together for 'the curtain.'"

Then his eyes met those of Ruth Devlin turned to him earnestly and
inquiringly. And I felt for a moment hard against Roscoe, that he should
even indirectly and involuntarily, bring suffering into her life. In
youth, in early manhood, we do wrong. At the time we seem to be injuring
no one but ourselves; but, as we live on, we find that we were wronging
whomsoever should come into our lives in the future. At the instant I
said angrily to myself: "What right has he to love a girl like that,
when he has anything in his life that might make her unhappy, or
endanger her in ever so little!"

But I bit my tongue, for it seemed to me that I was pharisaical; and I
wondered rather scornfully if I should have been so indignant were
the girl not so beautiful, young, and ingenuous. I tried not to think
further of the matter, and talked much to Ruth,--Gait Roscoe walked with
Mrs. Revel and Amy Devlin,--but I found I could not drive it from my
mind. This was not unnatural, for was not I the "chorus to the play"?

CHAPTER XIII. THE SONG OF THE SAW

There was still a subdued note to Roscoe's manner the next morning.
He was pale. He talked freely however of the affairs of Viking and
Sunburst, and spoke of business which called him to Mr. Devlin's great
saw mill that day. A few moments after breakfast we were standing in the
doorway. "Well," he said, "shall we go?"

I was not quite sure where he meant to go, but I took my hat and joined
him. I wondered if it would be to the summer hotel or the great mill. My
duty lay in the direction of the hotel. When we stepped out, he added:
"Let us take the bridle-path along the edge of the ravine to the hotel."

The morning was beautiful. The atmosphere of the woods was of soft,
diffusive green--the sunlight filtering through the transparent leaves.
Bowers of delicate