The road turned, and a gate barred his way.

When he had opened it and passed through, he was upon his own land.
He had ridden off his irritation, and could now calmly tell himself that the blunder was made and over with, and that it was the duty of the philosopher to remember it only in so far as it must shape his future course.

His house of cards had toppled over; but the profound indifferentism of his nature enabled him to view the ruins with composure.
After a while he would build the house again.

The image of Evelyn, as she had stood, dark-eyed and pale, with the flowers pressed to her bosom, he put from him.

He knew her strength of soul; and with the curious hardness of the strong toward the strong, and also not without the delicacy which, upon occasion, he could both feel and exhibit, he shut the door upon that hour in the forest.
He had left the woods, and was now riding through a field of newly planted tobacco.