"Yes, good father!" And Morgana left the passion-flowers and moved slowly back to her seat on the stone-bench--"There is one man! He was my third and last experience of happiness. When I first met him, my whole heart gave itself in one big pulsation--but like a wave of the sea, the pulsation recoiled, and never again beat on the grim rock of human egoism!" She laughed gaily, and a delicate colour flushed her face. "But I was happy while the 'wave' lasted,--and when it broke, I still played on the shore with its pretty foam-bells." "You loved this man?" and the priest's grave eyes dwelt on her searchingly. "I suppose so--for the moment! Yet no,--it was not love--it was just an 'attraction'--he was--he IS--clever, and thinks he can change the face of the world. But he is fooling with fire! I tell you I tried to help him--for he is deadly poor. But he would have none of me nor of what he calls my 'vulgar wealth.' This is a case in point where wealth is useless! You see?" Don Aloysius was silent. "Then"--Morgana went on--"Alison is right. The witchery of the Northern Highlands is in my blood,--never a love for me--alone I am--alone I must be!--never a love for a 'fey' woman!" Over the priest's face there passed a quiver as of sudden pain. "You wrong yourself, my child"--he said, slowly--"You wrong yourself very greatly! You have a power of which you appear to be unconscious--a great, a terrible power!--you compel interest--you attract the love of others even if you yourself love no one--you draw the very soul out of a man--" He paused, abruptly. Morgana raised her eyes,--the blue lightning gleam flashed in their depths. "Ah, yes!" she half whispered--"I know I have THAT power!" Don Aloysius rose to his feet. "Then,--if you know it,--in God's name do not exercise it!" he said. His voice shook--and with his right hand he gripped the crucifix he wore as though it were a weapon of self-defence. Morgana looked at him wonderingly for a moment,--then drooped her head with a strange little air of sudden penitence. Aloysius drew a quick sharp breath as of one in effort,--then he spoke again, unsteadily-- "I mean"--he said, smiling forcedly--"I mean that you should not--you should not break the heart of--of--the poor Giulio for instance!... it would not be kind." She lifted her eyes again and fixed them on him. "No, it would not be kind!" she said, softly--"Dear Don Aloysius, I understand! And I will remember!" She glanced at a tiny diamond-set watch-bracelet on her wrist--"How late it is!--nearly all the morning gone! I have kept you so long listening to my talk--forgive me! I will run away now and leave you to think about my 'intervals' of happiness,--will you?--they are so few compared to yours!" "Mine?" he echoed amazedly. "Yes, indeed!--yours! Your whole life is an interval of happiness between this world and the next, because you are satisfied in the service of God!"