“I feared it,” replied he, with a kind of hopeless gasp between a sigh and a groan. “Do not misunderstand me, Dr. Lynch. While I respect and esteem you; while I am grateful to you to a degree I cannot express; while I forgive and forget the wrong you have done; while there is nothing in the world that I would not do for you,--I cannot regard you as I did before.” Dr. Lynch breathed forth a sigh which seemed to come from the deepest depths of a hopeless and desponding soul. He rose from his chair, and walked across the room, apparently to hide his emotions from Julia. He stood facing the corner of the room. He took a spotless white handkerchief from his pocket. “Doctor, you do not understand me,” said Julia, greatly troubled by the apparent anguish of her suitor. “You speak too plainly to have your meaning mistaken,” he replied, as he turned and walked towards her again. There was an expression of agony on his face which appealed to her woman’s heart with tremendous force. His eyes looked misty, and if his spotless handkerchief was not stained by a tear, perhaps it was because it is not manly to weep. “I do not condemn you. I shall meet you as I have always met you. I shall have the same regard for you.” “But you have not even forgiven me.” “I have, fully and freely.” “You cannot _forget_ my transgressions.” “I have forgotten them.” “Then why do you say you shall not again regard me as you did before?” “You have proved your capacity to do what is as loathsome to you as it is to me. My estimate of your character has been affected. I cannot help it. It is involuntary on my part. I can forgive and forget the wrong, but I cannot blot out the influence which it has had upon my mind.” “Then you are always to look down upon me, from the pinnacle of your own goodness, as a base and hopeless transgressor?” “How much you wrong me! St. Paul, who called himself the chief of sinners, came to be the holiest of saints. The stone that was rejected becomes the head of the corner. I shall not think--none at Pine Hill will think--of what you were, or what you have done. We shall esteem you, and judge you by what you are. We may all learn to regard you even more kindly than before anything occurred to lower our estimate of you.” “That is hopeful,” said the doctor, apparently somewhat comforted by her explanation. “I trust you are satisfied.” “As far from it as Tantalus when the cool waters which he could not drink rippled within reach of his parched lips,” replied the doctor, vehemently. “Julia, I love you with all my mind, heart, and soul. I have not a thought of existence which is not wedded to you! I have not a hope or a joy which is not colored by your smile! I have not a waking hour which is not haunted by your image! Life without you is misery, torment, desperation; with you it is heaven. Is there any hope for me?” “I am afraid not.” “You do not love me.” “I do not dislike you.”