Pain is not good in
itself; it is a gate. Our souls are growing all through the gate of the
suffering, and when we get to the other side of it, we shall find we
have won them. God wants us to be greedy for happiness; but we must find
it by going through the gate He went through to show us the way."
Caius stood before her holding the horses; even they had been still
while she was speaking, as if listening to the music of her voice. Caius
felt the misery of a wavering will and conflicting thoughts.
"If I thought," he said, "that God cared about happiness--just simple
happiness--it would make religion seem so much more sensible; but I'm
afraid I don't believe in living after death, or that He cares----"
What she said was wholly unreasonable. She put out her hand and took
his, as if the hand-clasp were a compact.
"Trust God and see," she said.
There was in her white face such a look of glorious hope, that Caius,
half carried away by its inspiration, still quailed before her. After
he had wrung her hand, he found himself brushing his sleeve across his
eyes. As he thought that he had lost her, thought of all that she would
have to endure, of the murder he still longed to commit, and felt all
the agony of indecision again, and suspected that after this he would
scruple to commit it--when all this came upon him, he turned and leaned
against one of the horses, sobbing, conscious in a vague way that he did
not wish to stop himself, but only craved her pity.
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