But he did like the idea of being talked of as the admirer of a married woman, and he did like the brightness of the lady's eyes.

When the unfortunate moth in his semi-blindness whisks himself and his wings within the flame of the candle, and finds himself mutilated and tortured, he even then will not take the lesson, but returns again and again till he is destroyed.

Such a moth was poor Cradell.

There was no warmth to be got by him from that flame.

There was no beauty in the light,--not even the false brilliance of unhallowed love.