He might win her at last by perseverance.

At any rate he had it in his power to work towards the desired end, and might find solace even in that working.

And the misery of his loss would not be so great to him,--as he found himself forced to confess to himself before he had completed his wanderings on this night,--in not having her for his own, as it would be in knowing that she had given herself to another man.

He had often told himself that of course she would become the wife of some man, but he had never yet realised to himself what it would be to know that she was the wife of any one specified rival.

He had been sad enough on that moonlight night in the avenue at Plaistow,--when he had leaned against the tree, striking his hands together as he thought of his great want; but his unhappiness then had been as nothing to his agony now.