But Phyllis was not one of those rash beings who rush into the presence of God without thought or solemnity. Slowly bending, body and soul, she communed with her own heart and was still, until it burned within her, and the supplication came. When she rose from her knees, she was resigned in all things to God's will, no matter what self-denial it involved; and she was not unhappy. For, O believe this truth, the saddest thing under the sky is a soul incapable of sadness! Most blessed are those souls who are capable of lodging so great a guest as Sorrow, who know how to regret, and how to desire, and who have learned that with renunciation life begins. And Phyllis foresaw that renunciation would be the price of peace. At the commencement of the inquiry with her own soul she had refused to entertain the idea. She had tried to find reasons for seeking some other human adviser than Bishop Elliott, because she feared that he would counsel hard things to her. Ere she slept, however, she had determined to go to him very early in the morning. But while she was drinking her coffee John Millard entered the room. He took her hands, and, looking sorrowfully into her face, said, "Phyllis, my dearest, it was not my fault." "I believe you, John." "And you love me, Phyllis?" "I shall always love you, for I believe you will always try to deserve my love. But we must part at present. I was just going to ask the Bishop to tell you this. I can trust you, John, and you can trust me. He will tell you what you ought to do. And don't think hard of me if I say 'good-bye' now; for though Richard went to the plantation last night, he may be back any hour, and for my sake you must avoid him." "Phyllis; you are asking a very hard thing. Richard has said words which I can scarcely ignore. Two or three men have inquired if I was going to put up with them?" "What kind of men?" "Captain Lefferts and Jim Wade and--" "Nay, you need say no more. Will you sacrifice my happiness to the opinion of Captain Lefferts and Jim Wade? Are you their slave? Richard is not himself now; if you permit him to force a fight upon you, you will both sorrow for it all your lives." "I will go and see the Bishop, and do whatever he tells me. If I need a defender from ill words--" "You may safely leave your good name in his care, John. And who would dare to dispute a word he said? Dear John, I knew I could trust you. Goodbye, my love!"