ROSE. What should I forgive? You were right. You said it would bring me great peace. And so it has--great peace. MICH. And you wouldn't undo that morning's work? ROSE. No. It seems I died that morning and left all my old life in a grave. This is quite a new life. I wouldn't change it. MICH. Andrew, do you hear that? ANDR. Yes. MICH. I was right, then? I was right? You are happy? ROSE. Yes, I am happy--at least, I'm peaceful, and peace is better than happiness, isn't it? MICH. Yes, peace is best! Peace is best! I shall find it too, some day. Andrew, she has forgiven me. Can't you forgive me? We may never see each other again on this side the grave. Don't let us part in anger! ANDR. Part? MICH. As soon as I can arrange my affairs I shall leave Cleveheddon. ANDR. But your work? MICH. My work is ended. I'll see that you and Rose are sufficiently provided for. (_Taking their hands, trying to join them; ANDREW holds aloof._) ANDR. No. I can't take any favour from you. MICH. It's no favour. I've trained you to a special work which has unfitted you for everything else. It is my duty to provide for your old age. ANDR. I can't take any favour from you. MICH. Old comrade (_leaning on ANDREW'S shoulder; ANDREW draws away_), old comrade (_draws ANDREW to him_), we had many happy days together in the summer of our life. Now the autumn has come, now the winter is coming, I'm setting out on a cold, dark journey. Won't you light a little flame in our old lamp of friendship to cheer me on my way? You'll take my gift--you'll take it, and make a home for her? ANDR. (_bursts out_). You'll break my heart with your kindness! I don't deserve it! I was a half-bred, starving dog. You took me in, and, like the hound I am, I turned and bit the hand that fed me. Let me be! Let me be! MICH. Rose, speak to him. ROSE. Father, you are grieving Mr. Feversham. ANDR. I'll do whatever you tell me. But don't forgive me. MICH. Take him home, Rose. I parted you. Let me think I have restored you to each other. (_Joining them._) ANDR. (_to MICHAEL_). I can't say anything to-night. I never was good enough to black your shoes. I can't thank you. I can't speak. Good-night. Come, Rose! (_MICHAEL shakes ROSE'S hand very tenderly. Exeunt ROSE and ANDREW by transept. MICHAEL watches them off, goes to altar._) MICH. (_alone_). One thing more and all is done. (_Looking round the church._) And I must give you up! Never enter your doors, never lead my people through you in chariots of fire, never make you the very presence-chamber of God to my soul and their souls who were committed to me! Oh, if I had been worthy! (_A little pause. A woman's laugh is heard in the transept opposite to that by which ANDREW and ROSE have gone off. MICHAEL withdraws to the side of chancel, where he is seen by the audience, during the following scene, but is hidden from AUDRIE and MRS. CANTELO._)