I see that the time is not yet come. Ah, Orion! you have
not yet learnt to bridle the desires and cravings that burn within you;
you have forgotten all too quickly what is past--what a mountain we had
to cross before we succeeded in finding each other, before I--for I must
say it, my dear one--before I could look you in the face without anger
and aversion. A strange and mysterious ordering has brought it about;
and you, too, have honestly done your best that everything should be
changed, that what was white should now be black, that the chill north
wind should turn to a hot southerly one. Thus poison turns to healing,
and a curse to a blessing. In this foolish heart of mine passionate
hatred has given way to no less fervent love. Still, I cannot yet be
your bride, your wife. Call it cowardice, call it selfish caution, what
you will. I call it prudence, and applaud it; though it cost my poor
eyes a thousand bitter tears before my heart and brain could consent to
be guided by the warning voice. Of one thing you may be fully assured:
my heart will never be another's, come what may--it is yours with my
whole soul!--But I will not be your bride till I can say to you
with glad confidence, as well as with passionate love: 'You have
conquered--take me, I am yours!' Then you shall feel and confess that
Paula's love is not less vehement, less ardent.... O God! Orion, learn
to know and understand me. You must--for my sake and your own, you
must!--My head, merciful Heaven, my head!"

She bowed her face and clasped her hands to her burning brow; Orion,
pale and shivering, laid his hand on her shoulder, and said in a harsh,
forced voice that had lost all its music: "The Esoterics impose severe
trials on their disciples before they admit them into the mysteries.
And we are in Egypt--but the difference is a wide one when the rule is
applied to love. How ever, all this is not from yourself. What you call
prudence is the voice of that nun!"

"It is the voice of reason," replied Paula softly. "The yearning of my
heart had overpowered it, and I owe to my friend...."

"What do you owe her?" cried the young man furiously indignant. "You
should curse her, rather, for doing you so ill a turn, as I do at this
moment. What does she know of me? Has she ever heard a word from my
lips? If that despotic and casuistic recluse could have known what my
heart and soul are like, she would have advised you differently. Even
as a childs' confidence and