“I saw him in the train that was leaving when our train arrived.”

“Heavens! that is a confession!” cried Ella quite merrily.

“You forced it from me,” said Phyllis.  “But why should there be any mystery between us?  I’m sure I may tell you all the secrets of my life.  Such as they are, you know them already.”

“They are safe in my keeping.  My dear Phyllis, don’t you know that it has always been my dearest hope to see you and Herbert Courtland—­well, interested in each other?  I saw that he was interested in you long ago; but I wasn’t sure of you.  That is just why I was so anxious for you to come down here for the week we have just passed.  I wanted to bring you both together.  I wanted to see you in love with each other; I wanted to see you both married.”

“Ella—­Ella!”

“I wanted it, I tell you, not because I loved you, though you know that I love you better than anyone in the world.”

“Dearest Ella!”

“Not because I knew that you and he would be happy, but because I wished to snatch my own soul from perdition.  I think it is safe now—­but oh, my God! it is like the souls of many other mortals—­saved in spite of myself!  Phyllis, you have been my salvation.  You are a girl; you cannot understand how near a woman may go to the bottomless pit through the love of a man.  You fancy that love lifts one to the heaven of heavens; that it means purity—­self-sacrifice.  Well, there is a love that means purity; and there is a love that means self-sacrifice.  Self-sacrifice:  that is, that a woman is ready to sacrifice herself—­her life—­her soul—­for the man whom she loves.  I tell you—­I, who know the truth—­I, who have been at the brink.  It is not that the pit is dear to us; it is that the man is dear to us, and we must go with him,—­wherever he goes,—­even down into hell itself with him.”

“Oh, Ella, Ella! this is the love of the satyr.  It is not the love of the one who is made in the image of God.”

“Let it be what it is; it is a power that has to be reckoned upon so long as we remain creatures of the earth, earthy.”

“It is a thing that we should beat into the earth from which it came.”  The girl had sprung to her feet, and was speaking with white face and clenched hands.  “Down into the earth”—­she stamped upon the floor—­“even if we have to throw our bodies into the grave into which we trample it.  Woman, I tell you that the other love,—­the love which is the truth,—­is stronger than the love of the satyr.”

“Is it? is it, Phyllis?  Yes, sometimes.  Yes; it was a word that you spoke in his hearing that saved him—­him—­Herbert—­and that saved me that night when I came to you—­when I waited for you—­you did not know anything of why I came.  I will tell you now—­”

“No, no, no!  Oh, Ella! for God’s sake, tell me nothing!  I think I know all that I want to know; and I know that you had strength given to you by God to come to me that night.  I had not to go to you.  But I have come to you to-night.  We are together, you and I; and we are the same as when we were girls together—­oh, just the same!  Who shall come between us, Ella?”