“Forgiveness came long since. Oh! I am sure of that--long since. That which followed--was it Consequence or Punishment?--lasted for seventy years. Oh, what a life! Oh, what a long, long agony! Always to dwell on one moment; day after day, night after night, with never a change and no end; to whirl the heavy branch upon the head of the brother, to see him fall back dead, to know that he was a murderer. Leonard! Leonard! think of it!” “I do think of it, Constance. But you must not go on thinking of it.” “No, no--this is the last time. Forgiveness, yes--he would forgive. God’s sweet souls cannot but forgive. But Justice must prevail, with the condemnation of self-reproach, till Forgiveness overcomes--until, in some mysterious way, the sinner can forgive himself.” She sat down and buried her face in her hands. “You say that we have been led--perhaps. I neither deny nor accept. But whatever has been done for that old man whom we buried this morning, whatever has been done for the endowment of myself with cousins and people--well, of the more common sort--one thing more it has accomplished. Between you and me, Constance, there flows a stream of blood.” She lifted her head; she rose from the chair; she stepped closer to him; she stood before him face to face, her hands clasped, her face pale, the tears yet lying on her cheek, her eyes soft and full of a strange tender light. “You asked me three or four weeks ago,” she said, “to marry you. I refused. I told you that I did not know the meaning of Love or the necessity for Love. I now understand that it means, above all, the perfect sympathy and the necessity for sympathy. I now understand, besides, that you did not then know, any more than I myself, the necessity of sympathy. You were a lonely man, content to be lonely, and sufficient for yourself. You were a proud man--proud through and through, belonging to a caste separated from the people by a long line of ancestry and a record full of honour. You had no occasion to earn your daily bread; you were already distinguished; there was no man of your age in the whole country more fortunate than you, or more self-centred. I was able to esteem you--but you could not move my heart. Are you following me, Leonard?” “I am trying to follow you.” “Many things have happened to you since then. You have joined the vast company of those who suffer from the sins of their own people; you have known shame and humiliation----” “And between us flows that stream.” Even for a strong and resolute woman, who is not afraid of misunderstanding and does not obey conventions, there are some things very hard to say. “There is one thing, and only one thing, Leonard, that can dry that stream.” His face changed. He understood what she meant. “Is there anything? Think, Constance. Langley Holme was your ancestor. He was done to death by mine.”