g,
the woman who had come with them sat as if spellbound, her big eyes
fixed on the speaker. When Rupert closed, Signe said to her friend:

"That is my husband. Let us go up to him; he will be glad to meet you."

But the woman drew back as if afraid. "I can't," she whispered. "Forgive
me, but I must go"--and with a faint cry she retreated and disappeared
in the crowd, the two women looking after in wonder and astonishment.

Just then Rupert stepped up to them. Seeing their wonder, he asked the
reason. Signe explained.

"I think I can guess who it was," said Rupert. "Well, well," he murmured
as if to himself, "I had nearly forgotten her."

"Yes, I believe it was she," added Signe.

"Was who?" inquired Rachel.

But Rupert stopped any reply that his wife might wish to make by
interrupting with:

"I saw an impressive sight not long ago--Come let us be getting on our
way home, and I shall tell it to you."

They were willing to listen as they journeyed. "We were out," began
Rupert--"a brother and I--getting some information needed in one of the
temples on earth for a brother who had gone as far as he could with his
genealogy. As we were talking to a group of sisters a man rushed in upon
us. With quick, eager words he asked us if we had seen someone whom he
named and described. At the sight of him, one of the women shrunk back
as if to hide in the crowd, but he saw her, and exclaimed:

"'Is that you? Yes--Oh, have I found you at last!'"

"The sister put forth her hand as if to ward him off, as he pressed
through the crowd to her. 'How did you get here?' she asked. 'Keep
away--you are unclean--keep away.'

"He paused in some astonishment at this reception. Then he pleaded with
her to let him accompany her; but she retreated from him, crying, 'You
are unclean; do not touch me.'

"'Yes,' he acknowledged, 'I suppose I have been a sinner; but listen to
my justification: I sinned to drown my sorrow when you died. I, also,
wanted to die. My heart was broken--I could not stand it--it was because
I loved you so--'

"'No; you did not love me. Love is pure--made purer by sorrow. Had you
truly loved, you would not have sinned so grievously. Your sorrow needed
to be repented of. Sorrow cannot be drowned in sin--no, no; go away.
Please go; you frighten me.'

"The man stood rigid for some time, and the expression on his face was
something terrible to see. The cold, clear truth had for the first time
burst upon him to his c