, and Thora had wept in his arms and he had
kissed her tears away. She was now weary with weeping and suffering
with headache. She knew also that talking against any decision of her
father's was useless. When he had said the word, the man or woman that
could move him did not live. Acceptance of the will of others was a
duty she had learned to observe all her life, it was just the duty
that Ian had thought it right to resist. So amid all his love and
disappointment, there was a cruel sense of being of secondary
interest and importance, just at the very time he had expected to be
first in everyone's love and consideration.

Finally he said, "Dear Thora, I can feel no longer. My heart has
become hopeless. I suffer too much. I will go to my room and try and
submit to this last cruel wrong."

Then Thora was offended. "There is no one to blame for this last cruel
wrong but thyself," she answered. "The death of Boris was a nearer
thing to my father and mother than my marriage. Thy marriage can take
place at some other time, but for my dear brother there is no future
in this life."

"Are you even sure of his death?"

"My mother has seen him."

"That is nonsense."

"To you, I dare say it is. Mother sees more than any one else can see.
She has spiritual vision. We are not yet able for it, nor worthy of
it."

"Then why did she not see our wedding catastrophe? She might have
averted it by changing the date."

"Ask her;" and as Thora said these words and wearily closed her eyes,
Rahal entered the room. She went straight to Ian, put her arms round
him and kissed him tenderly. Then Ian could bear no more. He sobbed
like a boy of seven years old and she wept with him.

"Thou poor unloved laddie!" she said. "If thou had gone wrong, it
would have been little wonder and little blame to thyself. I think
thou did all that could be done, with neither love nor wisdom to help
thee. Rahal does not blame thee. Rahal pities and loves thee. Thou
hast been cowed and frightened and punished for nothing, all the days
of thy sad life. Poor lad! Poor, disappointed laddie! With all my
heart and soul I pity thee!"

For a few moments there was not a word spoken and the sound of Ian's
bitter weeping filled the room. Ian had been flogged many a time when
but a youth, and had then disdained to utter a cry, but no child in
its first great sorrow, ever wept so heart-brokenly as Ian now wept in
Rahal's arms. And a man weeping is a fearsome, pitifu