draught of water!"

"Rabbi, Rabbi,"--for Carmichael was greatly distressed at the woe in
the face opposite him, and his heart was tender that night,--"why
should you have lived like that? Do not be angry, but . . . did God
intend . . . it cannot be wrong . . . I mean . . . God did give Eve to
Adam."

"Laddie, why do ye speak with fear and a faltering voice? Did I say
aught against that gracious gift or the holy mystery of love, which is
surely the sign of the union betwixt God and the soul, as is set forth
after a mystical shape in the Song of Songs? But it was not for
me--no, not for me. I complain not, neither have I vexed my soul. He
doeth all things well."

"But, dear Rabbi"--and Carmichael hesitated, not knowing where he stood.

"Ye ask me why"--the Rabbi anticipated the question--"and I will tell
you plainly, for my heart has ever gone forth to you. For long years I
found no favour in the eyes of the Church, and it seemed likely I would
be rejected from the ministry as a man useless and unprofitable. How
could I attempt to win the love of any maiden, since it did not appear
to be the will of God that I should ever have a place of habitation?
It consisted not with honour, for I do hold firmly that no man hath any
right to seek unto himself a wife till he have a home."

"But . . ."

"Afterwards, you would say. Ah, John! then had I become old and
unsightly, not such a one as women could care for. It would have been