As one who hears himself sentenced to life-exile Big Dan dropped his head, burying his face in his hands. And seeing him so, such a figure of helpless strength, the woman's gray eyes filled with tears, that were not yet permitted to fall. In his presence she would be strong--afterwards her own heart should have its way. Once her hand went out, slowly towards the shaggy red-brown hair, but was silently withdrawn, and the trembling white fingers again plucked the young blades of grass. So they sat, these two--face to face with their hearts' tragedy, each--for the other's sake--striving to be strong. "Tell me," he said at last, raising his head but not looking her in the face, and speaking in tones that were strained and hard, "if I were anything else, if I were engaged in any other work, would you be my wife?" "Why do you ask that?" "Because I must know," he answered almost harshly. "If you were a common laborer, a business or professional man, if your work was anything honorable and right, save what it is--yes, gladly; oh, how gladly!" "Then," he burst forth hotly, "I will give up my work. I will be something else!" "You would give up your ministry for me?" she questioned doubtfully; "your chosen life work?" His voice sank to a hoarse whisper. "Yes, and if it need be--my religion, my God." As he finished speaking she laid her hand on his arm. "Hush, oh hush! That is not worthy of you; it is not true to our love. You are beside yourself." He continued eagerly, "But I have learned that other work is just as holy, just as sacred, as the work of the preacher and the church. You do not know how in the past months I have been teaching this. Why should I not give my life to some of these other ministries?" "Because it is not some other work that calls you now. These other ministries are not yours," she answered gently. "I have learned to love you because you are so truly yourself, because you are so true to yourself. You must not disappoint me now. And you will not," she continued, confidently, "I know that you will not." At last when he had argued, protested and pleaded until she was so beset by both his passion and her own that she felt her strength going, she said: "Don't, oh please don't! I cannot listen to more of this now. It is not fair to either of us. You must have time to think alone. I believe I know you even better than you know yourself. You must leave me now. You must promise that you will not try to see me again until tomorrow afternoon at this same hour. I will be in the garden with the others until four o'clock, when I will go to the house alone. If then you have decided that you can, with all truthfulness to yourself and me, give up your ministry, come to me and I will be your wife. But whether you come or not you must always believe that I love you, that I shall always love you, as my other self, and that I shall never, never doubt your love for me."