these years," she said, and rose to go.

"You are absolved, Aileen," he said smiling. "It was, like many others,
a little devoted life sacrificed to a great love."

He reached to press the button that turned on the electric lights. Their
soft brilliance caught in sparkling gleams on the points of a small
piece of almost pure white granite among the specimens on the shelf
above them. Father Honore rose and took it from its place.

"This is for you, Aileen," he said handing it to her.

"For me?" She looked at him in wonder, not understanding what he meant
by this insignificant gift at such a time.

He smiled at her look of amazement.

"No wonder you look puzzled. You must be thinking you have 'asked me for
bread and I am giving you a stone.' But this is for remembrance."

He hesitated a moment.

"You said once this afternoon, that for years it had been a hell on
earth for you--a strong expression to fall from a young woman's lips;
and I said nothing. Sometime, perhaps, you will see things differently.
But if I said nothing, it was only because I thought the more; for just
as you spoke those words, my eye caught the glitter of this piece of
granite in the firelight, and I said to myself--'that is like what
Aileen's life will be, and through her life what her character will
prove to be.' This stone has been crushed, subjected to unimaginable
heat, upheaved, submerged, ground again to powder, remelted,
overwhelmed, made adamant, rent, upheaved again,--and now, after aeons,
it lies here so near the blue above our Flamsted Hills, worthy to be
used and put to all noble uses; fittest in all the world for foundation
stone--for it is the foundation rock of our earth crust--for all
lasting memorials of great deed and noble thought; for all temples and
holies of holies. Take it, Aileen, and--remember!"

"I will, oh, I will; and I'll try to fit myself, too; I'll try, dear,
dear Father Honore," she said humbly, gratefully.

He held out his hand and she placed hers in it. He opened the door.

"Good night, Aileen, and God bless you."

"Good night, Father Honore."

She went out into the clear winter starlight. The piece of granite, she
held tightly clasped in her hand.

* * * * *

The priest, after closing the door, went to the pine table and opening a
drawer took out a letter. It bore a recent date. It was from the
chaplain of the prison and informed him there was a strong prospect of
re