Thorne did not accompany the party to Virginia, although it was tacitly understood that he should follow in time for Blanche’s wedding, which would take place in June.  Pocahontas wished it so arranged, and Thorne, feeling that his love had come to him, as through fire, was anxious to order all things according to her wishes.  He was very quiet, grave, and self-contained; his old buoyancy, his old lightness had passed away forever.  The whirl and lash of a hurricane leave traces which not even time can efface.  A man does not come through fire unscathed—­he is marred, or purified; he is never the same.  In Thorne, already, faintly stirred nature’s grand impulse of growth, of pressing upward toward the light.  He strove to be patient, tender, considerate, to take his happiness, not as reward for what he was, but as earnest of what he might become.

Jim remained in New York also.  He would go back to his work, he said, it would be better so.  He had come north on business for his company, and when that should be completed he would return to Mexico.  He would not go to Virginia; he did not want to see strangers in the old home; he would write to his sisters and explain; no one need trouble about him; he would manage well enough.

Before they separated, Jim had a long talk with Berkeley, and in the course of it the poor fellow completed his victory over self.  He spoke generously of Thorne.

“It’s a big subject, Berkeley,” he said, in conclusion, “and I don’t see that you or I have any call to pass judgment on it, or to lay down arbitrary lines, saying this is righteous, that is unrighteous.  We may have our own thoughts about the matter—­we must have, but we’ve no right to lop or stretch other people to fit them.  Princess is a pure woman, a noble woman, better, a thousand-fold, than you or me or any other man that breathes.  From her standpoint, what she does is right, and, whether we differ with her or not, we are bound to believe that she has weighed the matter and made her choke in all honor and truth.  And, Berke, listen to me!  You are powerless to alter any thing, and it’s a man’s part to face the inevitable and make the best of it.  You can’t better things, but you can make them worse.  Don’t alienate your sister.  You are the nearest man of her blood, and, as such, you have influence with her; don’t throw it away.  If you are cold, hard, and unloving to her now, you’ll set up a barrier between you that you’ll find it hard to level.  Never let her turn from you, Berke.  Stand by her always, old friend.”

Poor Jim!  He could not as yet disassociate the old from the new.  To him it still seemed as though Berkeley, and, in a measure, he himself were responsible for her life; must take care and thought for her future.  Love and habit form bonds that thought does not readily burst asunder.

Berkeley was good to his sister—­influenced partly by Blanche, partly by Jim, but most of all by his strong affection for Pocahontas herself.  He drew her to his breast and rested his cheek against her hair a moment, and kissed her tenderly, and the brother and sister understood each other without a spoken word.