They moved into the cathedral and sat down. He bent over her and whispered,-- 'That dream did not affect me as you might think. It did not chill me or make me uneasy because of any dread I had I should lose you in an ordinary way. My notion of life here and life hereafter is that we are sent here to learn to love one another, and then we go to a better place to enjoy the love we have acquired here. Now, Marie, what horrified me in that dream is that it seemed to me a kind of allegory. The sea-voyage which I had with you when I did not know you, was our life on earth. When our earthly life had run, when our voyage was finished, we were separated, and I saw you in terrible company, and was powerless to rescue you. You were in the arms of Death, at the gateway of the great city of the Dead. This suggested to me that, though you and I might go through time together, we might be separated in eternity.' She turned her face to his, and asked gravely, sadly,-- 'Why should we be separated in eternity? What could separate us?' 'Marie, I am no bigot. I do not say that any man will be lost because of his faith, so long as he has faith of some kind. But I believe that when we die we shall be classed together in the order of our faith. You have been long indifferent. Suppose you should grow indifferent again. Suppose you should be indifferent at the last. Suppose I should die ten years hence, and you should survive me ten, twenty years; and at the end of those twenty years have lost all faith, or have married again and adopted a new one, you would be lost to me.' 'George, how can you say such cruel things? You should not say such things. You know I should not marry.' 'Let us not talk like children, Marie. No one knows that. I am sure that if you marry me now, you and I will be for ever together in the hereafter. We do not know everything. We are not told that; but I believe, when a man and woman marry for love, they are husband and wife for ever. Now you see, child, why I am so anxious.' 'Yes,' she murmured, looking up at him half-frightened. He was putting things in a terribly earnest way. She had often thought of love and marriage before--who is it does not think of these things?--but she had never thought of them so surrounded by awe before. Most people treated love with levity, and marriage as a matter of legal contract, to be embodied in documents and secured by stamps. Now this man whom she had agreed to accept as a husband was taking precautions, not only for their earthly happiness, but for their eternal union also. He had often seemed great and noble to her, but he had never overawed her before. She looked up at him with wonder and devotion, mingled with grave concern. He went on, still in the low voice he had first employed, and with his lips close to her ear,--