"Between us, for sympathy or repulsion, are a being and an influence which soon shall become resolved into a bridge or a chasm. I prefer that it shall be a bridge, but it may be that it will not depend upon me to make it this or that. Only, I will have my way. No power on earth shall mar the dearest wish of my heart. "What being stands between you and me, dear doctor, to unite or sever? Ah, the fragrant air playing about my face, whispering of spring, of youth, of joy! Lying back in my chair, with eyes fast closed, I see the pink and white blossoms growing upwards into the clouds, kissing heaven. I am lifted heavenward. Delicious and most sweet! If death bear any resemblance to this state of beatitude, it were good to die. But I must live--I must live! A heaven awaits me in mortal life. Dear doctor, whom, unconscious to yourself, I am dominating even as you would dominate me, which is it to be--a bridge to join our hearts, or a chasm to hold them apart? The influence is Love, the being, Lauretta. You cannot quite see into my heart, nor can I quite see into yours, but the secret which includes love and Lauretta is yours for the asking. Also, for the asking, my resolve to win both love and her. "But your inquisitiveness may travel beyond this point; you may seek to know too much, and I am armed to resist you. Nothing shall you glean from me that will be to my hurt, that will step between me and Lauretta. You shall obtain from me no pathognomonic sign which will enable you to lay your finger upon the secret of my midnight musings, and of my love for solitude. You shall not make me a witness against myself. True, I have heard silent voices and have seen invisible shapes. You would construe the bare fact to my disadvantage. You would be unable to understand that they are my slaves and have no power over me. All the dark thoughts they have suggested, all the temptings and instigations, will presently be slain by love, and will fall into a deep grave, to lie there for ever still and dead. I am as others are, human; my life, like the lives of other men, is imperfect. The purifying influence is at hand. I thank Thee, Creator of all the harmonies in the wondrous world, that Thou hast sent me Lauretta! Now, doctor, I am ready for you." He spoke upon the instant. "You and I have certain beliefs in common--as that we are not entirely creatures of chance. There is in all nature a design, down to its minutest point." "So far as creation goes," I answered, "so far as this or that is brought into existence. There ends the design." "Because the work is done," said Doctor Louis. "Not so," I said. "Rather is it because nature's part is done. Then the true work commences, and man is the master." "Nature can destroy."