a message, then, because no other ear than his may catch
the answer given, is there for that reason none? The soul is like
science; it cannot break through its boundaries and burst in upon the
unknowable that surrounds its little realm of knowledge, but wherever it
presses against these barriers they recede without being destroyed, and
the adventurer, still in his own domain, brings back new treasures to
the old life. The source of power is, we know, forever beyond us, but in
going out toward that we enter the realm of power and are charged with
it.

In the stillness that had fallen upon her Elizabeth rose softly, and
made her preparations for the night.

Archdale came down early the next morning. He stood a few moments in the
hall waiting for the appearance of the person he had come to meet. As he
looked out into the garden, a picture seemed to rise before him, one
that was not within his horizon at present. He seemed to be looking out
into a garden as he had been that morning when, with his mother, Sir
Temple and Lady Dacre, he had paid a visit to Madam Pepperell. Looking
into this garden absently he had seen Elizabeth. Unaware of visitors in
the house, she was going on with her occupation of gathering roses.
Archdale the day before, wondering about her complicity with Edmonson's
scheme had had this vision of her come between him and any belief in
this. It came again that next morning as he was waiting to see Edmonson
alone, and imagined his mind full only of what he had learned from him
the day before. He remembered the expression of her face; he had never
seen it gentle like this. She had been standing only a few rods distant
with scarcely so much as her profile turned toward him. A cluster was in
her left hand; in her right a stem just broken off, holding a rose and
several buds. She was perfectly still, seeming to have forgotten to
move, to be lost in reverie. She saw him no more than her roses; she was
alone with her thoughts. There was a strength and a sadness in the
delicate outline, especially in the mouth, which he had not seen before,
perhaps, because he had never studied her profile. As he had thought of
this expression while he had stood before the uncovered portrait, he had
said to himself that certainly she had not been willingly concerned in
helping forward another's misfortune. While he sat watching her he had
been inclined to go to her, obeying his impulse rather than his
judgment, which told him tha