I think he is making way."
"Sickening! I hoped you would not speak to him again. After all--another
man--it's naturally of no use!"
"I spoke as a priest!"
"Did he swear at you?"
"Oh dear no! He was rather sympathetic. And I went very far. But I could
get him to see nothing--to feel nothing."
"How far did you go?"
"I told him that she was consecrated, that he proposed to commit
sacrilege. He seemed to think he could make it up to her."
"If anyone else had said that to me I should have laughed--you don't
suspect the irony in it," Hilda said. "Pray who is to make it up to
him?"
"I suppose there is that point of view."
"I should think so, indeed! But taking it, I despair with you. I had her
here the other day and tried to make the substance of her appear before
him. I succeeded, too--he gave me the most uncomfortable looks--but I
might as well have let it alone. The great purpose of nature," Hilda
went on, putting down her cup, "reasonable beings in their normal state
would never lend themselves to. So she invents these temporary
insanities. And therein is nature cruel, for they might just as well be
permanent. That's a platitude, I know," she added, "but it's
irresistibly suggested.
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