There are only Souls, "made in His image." And whosoever defaces that Divine Image, whether he be base-born churl or crowned potentate, must answer for the wicked deed.

How many of us view our social acquaintances from any higher standard than the extent of their cash accounts, or the "usefulness" of their influence?
Yet the inexorable Law works silently on,--and day after day, century after century, shows us the vanity of riches, the fall of pride and power, the triumph of genius, the immutability of love! And we are still turning over the well-worn pages of the same old school-book which was set before Tyre and Sidon, Carthage and Babylon--the same, the very same, with one saving exception--that a Divine Teacher came to show us how to spell it and read it aright--and He was crucified! Doubtless were He to come again and once more try to help us, we should re-enact that old-time Jewish murder! Lying quietly in his bed, Helmsley conversed with his inner self, as it were, reasoning with his own human perplexities and gradually unravelling them.

After all, if his life had been, as he considered, only a lesson, was it not good for him that he had learned that lesson?
A passing memory of Lucy Sorrel flitted across his brain--and he thought how singular it was that chance should have brought him into touch with the very man who would have given her that "rose of love" he desired she should wear, had she realised the value and beauty of that immortal flower.

He, David Helmsley, had been apparently led by devious ways, not only to find an unselfish love for himself, but also to be the instrument of atoning to Angus Reay for his first love-disappointment, and uniting him to a woman whose exquisitely tender and faithful nature was bound to make the joy and sanctity of his life.

In this, had not all things been ordered well?
Did it not seem that, notwithstanding his, Helmsley's, self-admitted worthlessness, the Divine Power had used him for the happiness of others, to serve as a link of love between two deserving souls?
He began to think that it was not by chance that he had been led to wander away from the centre of his business interests, and lose himself on the hills above Weircombe.