The light from the east came in upon the man and woman, standing close together, more in the position of two persons who had been one for many years than that of lovers whose lips had met only for the second time. They watched it touch the commonplace houses of the dreary street with its transfiguring light. As Evelyn looked, a sense of peace came over her. After all, it was the conflict which had been so infinitely bitter, the civil war between soul and body, reason and heart. "You needn’t speak," she said; "I know what you’ve decided. Let me know in a few days when you want me to come, what you want me to do. You’ll have to say good-bye to your little son, you see; you’ll let me come and say it too, won’t you? Good-bye till then." "_When I want you_—God!" "Now you must go!" She faltered; all that the man had suffered showed in his last words. He kissed her and went out. The sun rose, flooding her with light as she stood on the doorstep watching him. He thought of her many times afterwards as he saw her at that moment, tall, pale, yet radiant, unashamed, with eyes mystic and sad, and features a little drawn but spiritualized by the night’s waiting and suffering. She looked as though peace encompassed her, stilling the turbulent forces which had enfolded her so long. Had she been summoned before God just then she would have used the very selfsame words in which she spoke to Farquharson: "Things were too hard for us—I have given in." *PART V* *VICTORY* "Love ... when weary, is not tired; when straitened, is not constrained; when frightened, is not disturbed, but like the lively flame of a torch all on fire, mounts upwards and securely passes through all. He that loves most willingly embraces all that is hard and bitter. "... If the works of God were such as might be easily comprehended, they could not be called wonderful and unspeakable."—THOMAS À KEMPIS. "It were not hard to suffer by His Hand, If thou couldst see His Face;—but in the dark! That is the one last trial:—be it so. Christ was forsaken, so must thou be too: How couldst thou suffer but in seeming, else? Thou wilt not see the face nor feel the hand, Only the cruel crushing of the feet, When through the bitter night the Lord comes down To tread the wine-press—Not by sight, but faith.... Endure, endure—be faithful to the end."—MRS. HAMILTON KING. *CHAPTER I* "’Tis not the grapes of Canaan that repay, But the high faith that failed not on the way." _Lines written upon a photograph._ At the same hour as Evelyn and Farquharson parted, Hare, wrapped round with all the paraphernalia of illness, sitting beside his window at an hotel in Biarritz which faced the Plage, braced himself by force of will to write a letter which he felt impelled to send.