Compassion would speak so loudly for her; her face, pale and illuminated with sorrow, would throw a stronger spell than ever upon his senses.

Well, there was no help.

Whatever would be, would be.

It availed nothing to foresee and scheme and resolve.
And, in the same hour, Maud was upon her knees, in the silence of her own chamber, shedding tears which were at once both sweet and bitter, in her heart a tumult of emotion, joy and thanksgiving at strife with those dark powers which shadowed her existence.

_She_ had do doubts of the completeness and persistency of her love.