Unlike the woman, who had taken the kiss to her heart of hearts and nursed it there wilfully forgetful, for the first delicious after-hours, of aught else in the wide world, Raine gnawed his spirit with impatient regret that circumstances had granted him no more. If the fulness of revelation were to come on the morrow, it would have been different; but he was going away--without seeing her--for days and days--leaving her with this unsatisfying expression of his love. For he loved her, deeply, truly, with the strength of his simple, manly nature. She had roused in him every instinct of pitying protection, her delicate grace had captivated his senses, her wide experience of life, sad in its wisdom, had harmonized subtly with his robust masculine faith. Without being intellectual, she had the fine judgments of a cultured, thoughtful woman. On deep questions of ethics they met on common ground; could view the world together, and be stirred by the same sympathies. Her companionship had grown intensely dear to him. The sadness that seemed to overspread her life had appealed to his chivalry, compelled him irresistibly to her side. The sweet womanliness of her nature had been gradually revealed to him by a thousand little acts, each one weaving its charm about him, Jean-Marie, too, and his wife had drawn him within the area of their worship. Hitherto her sadness had been attributed in his mind to no definite cause. She was a widow, had passed through much suffering, was intensely lonely, uncared for. For him that had been enough. He had scarcely thought of speculating further. But tonight the remembrance of agitated tones in her voice forced him to a surmise. He pondered over her self-accusing cry when he had submitted to her judgment the ethical side of the poor tragedy of his early manhood. “God forbid that I of all creatures should dare to judge others.” Women do not utter such words lightly, least of all women like Katherine. He fitted them as a key-stone into the grey, vague arch of the past. His face grew stern and thoughtful as he lay back in his seat, and passed his hand heavily through his hair, contemplating the apparition. For a time it loomed as a shadow between himself and her. And then--was it the ghost that he had laid that evening, come back as the eternal spirit of love, or was it merely his strong human faith? A light seemed to pour down from above, and Katherine emerged serene and radiant from the mist, which spread behind her thin and formless. He sprang to his feet, rubbed his eyes and laughed to himself. His love for her thrilled buoyantly through him. He loved her for what she had shown herself to be; a woman fair and brave and womanly--and one who loved him; that he had seen in her eyes as he had kissed her.