"I fear you are unwell," said I, offering a chair.
"I have reason to believe," he answered, "that I am dying." And then, as I uttered some expression of dismay and concern, he cut me short. "Oh, there will be no hurry about it! I mean, perhaps, no more than that all men carry about with them the seeds of their mortality—so why not I? But I came to talk of Julia Constantine, not of myself."
"You may guess, Mr. Laquedem, that as her vicar, and having known her and her affliction all her life, I take something of a fatherly interest in the girl."
"And having known her so long, do you not begin to observe some change in her, of late?"
"Why, to be sure," said I, "she seems brighter."
He nodded. "I have done that; or rather, love has done it."
"Be careful, sir!" I cried. "Be careful of what you are going to tell me! If you have intended or wrought any harm to that girl, I tell you solemnly
"But he held up a hand. "Ah, sir, be charitable! I tell you solemnly our love is not of that kind. We who have loved, and lost, and sought each other, and loved again through centuries, have out-learned that rougher passion. When she was a princess of Rome and I a Christian Jew led forth to the lions
"I stood up, grasping the back of my chair and