onslaught of fate? What was the purpose of those beautiful long nights
but to brood upon plans and send far thoughts out toward shining aims?

No, she would not run into the river. That dear wedding-day in five,
nay, in four years, was lost anyhow. But the long time could be
utilised so cleverly that her beloved could be dragged across the
abyss of his fate.

First, then, she must have a father for her child. He must not be
clever. He must not be strong of will. Nor young, for youth makes
demands. ... Nor well off, for he who is certain of himself desires
freedom of choice.

Her choice fell upon a former inn-keeper, a down-hearted man of about
fifty, moist of eye, faded, with greasy black hair.... He had failed
in business some years before and now sat around in the inn, looking
for a job....

To this her father did not object. For that man's condition was an
excellent foil to his own success and prosperity and thus he was
permitted, at times, to stay a week in the house where, otherwise,
charity was scarcely at home.

Her plan worked well. On the first day she lured him silently on. On
the second he responded. On the third she turned sharply and rebuked
him. On the fourth she forgave him. On the fifth she met him in
secret. On the sixth he went on a journey, conscience smitten for
having seduced her....

That very night--for there was no time to be lost--she confessed with