And so it would be, could she but have
her way. But too often the man fails to understand, and so spoils the
perfect plan. And she to whom love means self-sacrifice, sacrifices
all--even her noblest ideals--sooner than fail a call upon her love.
Yet I say again, could the Madonna instinct have had full sway, the
world would have been redeemed ere now to holiness, to happiness, to
health.
"You looked high, my son, by your own shewing. You loved high. Your
love was worthy, for you remained faithful, when you believed you had
been betrayed. Let your consolation now be the knowledge that she also
was faithful, and that it is a double faithfulness which keeps her from
responding to the call of your love. Seek union with her on the
spiritual plane, and some day--in the Realm where all noble things
shall attain unto full perfection--you may yet give thanks that your
love was not allowed to pass through the perilous pitfalls of an
earthly union."
The Knight looked at the delicate face of the Bishop, with its wistful
smile, its charm of extreme refinement.
Yes! Here spoke the Prelate, the Idealist, the Mystic.
But the Knight was a man and a lover.
His dark face flushed, and his eyes grew bright with inward fires such
as the Bishop could hardly be expected to understand.
"I want not spiritual planes," he said, "nor realms of perfection. I
want my own wife, in my own home; and, could I have won her there, I
have not much doubt but that I could have lifted her over any perilous
pitfalls that came in her way.
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