atify it. I am waiting for your answer."

Jane cleared her throat and put her trembling hands into the large
pockets of her tweed coat.

"Dal," she said; "my answer is a question. How old are you?"

She felt his start of intense surprise. She saw the light of expectant
joy fade from his face. But he replied, after only a momentary
hesitation: "I thought you knew, dearest. I am twenty-seven."

"Well," said Jane slowly and deliberately, "I am thirty; and I look
thirty-five, and feel forty. You are twenty-seven, Dal, and you look
nineteen, and often feel nine. I have been thinking it over, and--you
know--I cannot marry a mere boy."

Silence--absolute.

In sheer terror Jane forced herself to look at him. He was white to the
lips. His face was very stern and calm--a strange, stony calmness.
There was not much youth in it just then. "ANOINT AND CHEER OUR SOILED
FACE"--The silent church seemed to wail the words in bewildered agony.

At last he spoke. "I had not thought of myself," he said slowly. "I
cannot explain how it comes to pass, but I have not thought of myself
at all, since my mind has been full of you. Therefore I had not
realised how little there is in me that you could care for. I believed
you had felt as I did, that we were--just each other's." For a moment
he put out his hand as if he would have touched her. Then it dropped
heavily to his side. "You are quite right," he said. "You could not
marry any one whom you consider a mere boy."

He turned from her and faced up the chancel. For the space of a long
silent minute he looked at the window over the holy table, where hung
the suffering Christ. Then he bowed his head. "I accept the cross," he
said, and, turning, walked quietly down the aisle. The church door
opened, closed behind him with a heavy clang, and Jane was alone.

She stumbled back to the seat she had left, and fell upon her knees.

"O, my God," she cried, "send him back to me, oh, send him back! ...
Oh, Garth! It is I who am plain and unattractive and unworthy, not you.
Oh, Garth--come back! come back! come back! ... I will trust and not
be afraid ... Oh, my own Dear--come back!"

She listened, with straining ears. She waited, until every nerve of her
body ached with suspense. She decided what she would say when the heavy
door reopened and she saw Garth standing in a shaft of sunlight. She
tried to remember the VENI, but the hollow clang of the door had
silenced even memory's echo of that hau