It was this paragraph that had cost her half of the hour occupied in writing; for it must be expressed just so and no otherwise; and its wording had cost her agony lest on the one side she should tell him too much, and, on the other, too little.  And her agony was not yet over; for she had to face its sending, and the thought of all that it might cost her.  She was to give it to one of the men who was to leave early for Derby next morning and was to deliver it at Matstead on the road; so she brought it out now to her sanctuary to spread it, like the old King of Israel, before the Lord....

* * * * *

There was a promise of frost in the air to-night.  Underfoot the moisture of the path was beginning, not yet to stiffen, but rather to withdraw itself; and there was a cold clearness in the air.  Over the wall beside the house, beyond the leafless trees which barred it like prison-bars, burned the sunset, deepening and glowing redder every instant.  Yet she felt nothing of the cold, for a fire was within her as she went again up and down the path on which her father had watched her walk—­a fire of which as yet she could not discern the fuel.  The love of Robin was there—­that she knew; and the love of Christ was there—­so she thought; and yet where the divine and the human passion mingled, she could not tell; nor whether, indeed, for certain, it were the love of Christ at all, and not a vain imagination of her own as to how Christ, in this case, would be loved.  Only she knew that across her love for Robin a shadow had fallen; she could scarcely tell when it had first come to her, and whence.  Yet it had so come; it had deepened rapidly and strongly during the mass that Mr. Simpson had said, and, behold! in its very darkness there was light.  And so it had continued till confusion had fallen on her which none but Robin could dissolve.  It must be his word finally that must give her the answer to her doubts; and she must make it easy for him to give it.  He must know, that is, that she loved him more passionately than ever, that her heart would break if she had not her desire; and yet that she would not hold him back if a love that was greater than hers could be for him or his for her, called him to another wedding than that of which either had yet spoken.  A broken heart and God’s will done would be better than that God’s will should be avoided and her own satisfied.

* * * * *

It was this kind of considerations, therefore, that sent her swiftly to and fro, up and down the path under the darkening sky—­if they can be called considerations which beat on the mind like a clamour of shouting; and, as she went, she strove to offer all to God:  she entreated Him to do His will, yet not to break her heart; to break her heart, yet not Robin’s; to break both her heart and Robin’s, if that Will could not otherwise be served.

Her lips moved now and again as she went; but her eyes were downcast and her face untroubled....