When the visible and the invisible meet in the shock of strife about the soul of a man, who may describe the changes and chances of the fight?
In the peace of his chosen solitude would he re-conquer the vision that the clouds had hidden from him?
Or would the allurements of his earthly love be less strong because its dazzling incitements were no longer actually before his eyes?
He had refused all aid and all alliance.

He had chosen to try the issue alone and unbefriended.

Was he strong enough ?--strong enough to think on his love, and yet not to bow to it ?--strong enough to picture to himself all its charms, only to refuse to gather them?
Should he not have seized every aid that counsel and authority could offer him?
Would he not find too late that his true strategy had been to fly, and not to challenge, the encounter?
He had fancied he could be himself the impartial judge in his own cause, however vast the bribe that lay ready to his hand.

The issue of his sojourn alone could tell whether he had misjudged his strength.
While Stafford mused and strove the world moved on, and with it that small fraction of it whose movements most nearly bore on the fortunes of the recluse.
The party at Millstead Manor was finally broken up by the departure of the Territons and of Morewood about a week after Stafford left.

The cricket-match came off with great _eclat_; in spite of a steady thirteen from the Rector, who spent two hours in "compiling" it--to use the technical term--and of several catches missed by Sir Roderick, who was tried in vain in all positions in the field, the Manor team won by five wickets, and Bob Territon felt that his summer had been well spent.