“Companionship,” answered the girl,—­“the companionship of service.  My mind must serve your mind; for only so may it find its growth for which it longs.  You have led me from darkness to light; and into what future light you advance I must enter too.  I love you as women love men; but I love you more than that.  I love you for what you are separate from what you can ever be to me.  I love you as a mind; I love you as a soul; I love you as a spirit; I love you with a purity, with an ambition, with a longing that men cannot interpret and earthly relations cannot express; but which God understands and which in his Heaven I know there must be a name for, and a connection that is known through all the social life of Heaven.”

“It must not be,” answered the man.  “I admit your claim; but it must not be.”

“Why must it not be?” asked the girl.

The man hesitated a moment, and then he said: 

“Because my future is uncertain; I dare not say what it will be.”

“I care not what it is,” answered the girl.  “Whatever it is, that I share, share because I cannot help it.  It is not a question of condition, but of presence.  With you I could bear all misery; yea, in the misery find happiness.  Without you my heart could feel no joy throughout eternity.  Master, my master, I love you so!” And as she looked into the face of the man there came to her countenance the expression of utter devotion; and in her large eyes tears gathered, and, having formed, from them slowly fell.

The man groaned aloud, and said: 

“Alas! alas!  My curse is doubled, being brought on thee.”

“There is no curse on thee or me,” she answered.  “You were but mortal, and, being sorely tempted, did a wicked deed.  But no single deed can change the nature.  You are the same great man; great in your goodness as you are great in power, and my love, too, remains the same; nay, master, it is greater.  You should stay and live and make atonement by living; for you cannot live and not better men.  You can do deeds that would wipe out the deadliest guilt.  But if you will not stay,—­if to you it seems right to die, and if only—­through death your sense of justice can be met and yourself find peace, then neither will I stay, but go—­go where thou goest.  Yea, I will sink or rise with thee; go to this world or that, I care not which or where, if only I may go with thee.  And I pray thee not to think it hard for me to share thy journey.  Why should I be left behind?  And what might I have, thou being gone?  What pleasure in all the world could I find, with thee out of it!  I have no home,—­thy presence is my home.  I have no kindred and no loves await me anywhere.  How could I have, loving thee?  For in thee I have found father and mother, brother and sister and all sweet relationships.  And so whither thou goest, let me go; and where thou stayest, let me stay.  Do not resist me, but be persuaded, and let me die with thee.  So shall we, passing out of these mortal bodies in the self-same hour, be together still.”