No wonder that life became a mystery to this poor child.  It seemed as if its difficulties increased in a direct ratio with her wish to discharge its duties; as if the darkness gained upon the light, and the burden grew heavy, faster than her shoulders grew strong.

The discovery of the nature of that affection which she felt for David had been slow and unwelcome, coming to her even before David’s protestations of his love; yet one day the passionate feelings of their hearts found expression in wild and startling confessions.  They were terrified at what they told each other; but it became necessary therefore to seek the comfort of still other confessions and confidences.

Their interviews had steadily become more ardent and more dangerous; and the doctor’s negligence giving them the utmost freedom, they often spent hours together in wandering about the cities they visited, or the fields and woods lying near.

On one of these tramps, their relationship reached a critical stage.  It was the early morning of a beautiful autumn day that they strolled up Broadway in the city of Cincinnati, turned into the Reading road, and sauntered slowly out into the country.

“In which direction shall we go?” asked David.

“Let us wander without thought or purpose, like those beautiful clouds,” Pepeeta answered, pointing upward.

David watched them silently for a moment and then said, “Pepeeta, men and women are like those clouds.  They either drift apart forever, or meet and mingle into one.  It must be so with us.”

She walked silently by his side, sobered by the seriousness of his voice and words.

“Perhaps,” he continued, “it makes but little difference what becomes of us, for our lives are like the clouds, a morning mist, a momentary exhalation.  And yet, how filled with joy or woe is this moment of parting or commingling!  Pepeeta, I have decided that this day must terminate my suspense.  I cannot endure it any longer.  I must know before night whether our lives are to be united or divided.  You have told me that you love me, and yet you will not give yourself to me.  What am I to think of this?”

“My friend,” she cried with an infinite pain in her voice, “how can you force me to such a decision when you know all the difficulties of my life?  How can you thus forget that I have a husband?”

“I do not forget it,” he answered bitterly, “I cannot forget it.  It is an eternal demonstration of the madness of faith in any kind of Providence.  It makes me hate an order which unites a lion to a lamb, and marries a dove to a hawk!  You say that you loathe this man!  Then leave him and come with me!  The world lies before us.  We are as free as those clouds!”

“We are not free, and neither are they,” she answered.  “Something binds them to their pathway, as it binds me to mine.  I cannot leave it.  I must tread it even though I have to tread it alone.”