She stood unsteadily; she lifted her joined hands; her upturned face was aflame, but she could not speak. Then her self-repression broke down. She sank upon the rock and covered her face, and wept uncontrollably. He threw himself beside her. "Oh, is it true?" he besought her. "Can it be true?" "Yes!--yes!" she cried, sobbing vehemently. "I tried to keep it down; I would not hear it. I tried to do right. But I can't help it now." He turned his face up to the sky and groaned. "O God!" It was as if heaven came within his reach, and resistless hands stretched out and held him back. But it was too much. Fierce joy rushed upon him and swept away everything else. He stretched out his arms; he bowed over her; he caught her and held her fast. The sun leaped up in the sky. The waves and the winds sang together. There was a new heaven and a new earth! "O Stella!" was all he said. She lay still; she had no strength. But soon she found faint voice: "O Lawrence, I am so weak! You must help me to do right." "Help you!" he cried, piteously. "Help the angels of light! O Stella, Stella! Don't trust in me. I have no goodness but yours, no right but you. I had rather the tide would rise over us here, than have to go away from you." She sobbed, then turned her head with a long, long breath, and slowly, steadily, with weak, limp fingers began to loosen his clasp and raise herself up. He let her go. The world seemed slipping from him; the shadows of night fell about him. They sat side by side and looked at each other. "Is there no way?" he asked. "No,--no way but one." She tried to stanch her tears, but they would flow. "Don't cry, don't cry!" he besought. "I can't bear that." "Oh, never mind," she replied. "It's a relief to cry; I am not altogether unhappy. It is very bitter at first, and chokes me." She bowed her face a moment, then lifted it and went on, with the tears in her eyes and voice: "No; there is only one way. Even if it were easier, I could not thrust her out, I should hate myself if I did; you yourself would despise me. If we could enter heaven by shutting the door upon her, could we be happy walking together in the golden streets? Would not the thought of her wandering in outer darkness come in and torment us and make us afraid? I do not grudge her,--at least, at least----" Her voice faltered, but rose again. "I ought not. I do pity her with all my heart. If I should take away the only good she has, would it not turn to my curse?" They had risen and stood on the sand. His eyes were bent upon her; her words played on him like the winds on a harp. "Do right; do right?" he exclaimed. "Whatever you do or say is right to me." Her head dropped. She lifted her hands; she spoke brokenly. "Do not speak so; help me; I am weak too." He caught her hands. "Forgive me,--I will, I will, I know I could die for you. Can I not live and endure for your sake? Look up! look up."