ou, no
lie can do that!"

Paul made no answer. An awful burden of speech was on his tongue. In the
silence they heard the sound of weeping. It was as if some poor woman
were sobbing her heart out in the room above.

"Dearest, when two hearts are made one in marriage they are made one
indeed," said Greta, in a soft voice. "Henceforth the thought of the one
is the thought of both; the happiness of one is the happiness of both,
the sorrow of one is the sorrow of both. Nothing comes between. Joy is
twofold when both share it, and only grief is less for being borne by
two. Death itself, cruel, relentless death itself, even death knits that
union closer. And in sunshine and storm, in this world and in the next,
the bond is ever the same. The tie of the purest friendship is weak
compared with this tie, and even the bond of blood is less strong!"

"Oh, God of heaven, this is too much!" said Paul.

"Paul, if this union of thought and deed, of joy and grief, begins with
marriage and does not end even with death, shall we now, here, at the
threshold of our marriage, do it wrong?"

A great sob choked Paul's utterance. "I can not tell you," he cried; "I
have sworn an oath."

"An oath! Then, surely, this present trouble was not that which Hugh
Ritson has threatened?"

"Greta, if our union means anything, it means trust. Trust me, my
darling. I am helpless. My tongue is sealed. I dare not speak. No, not
even to you. Scarcely to God Himself!"

There was silence for a moment.

"That is enough," she said, very tenderly, and now the tears coursed
down her own cheeks. "I will not ask again. I do not wish to know. You
shall forget that I asked you. Come, dearest, kiss me. Think no more of
this. Come, now." And she drew his head down to hers.

Paul threw himself into a chair. His prostration was abject.

"Come, dearest," said Greta, soothingly, "be a man."

"There is worse to come," he said.

"What matter," said Greta, and smiled. "I shall not fear if I have you
beside me."

"I can bear it no more," said Paul. "The thing is past cure."

"No, dearest, it is not. Only death is that."

"Greta, you said death would bind us closer together, but this thing
draws us apart."

"No, dearest, it does not. That it can not do."

"Could nothing part us?" said Paul, lifting his face.

"Nothing. Though the world divided us, yet we should be together."

Again the loud sobs came from overhead.

Paul rose to his feet, a shattered man