No, it would not bear to be thought about.

_That_ dream, at least, was gone.

Rotha was happy in his brother's love, and as for himself--as for him--it was his destiny, and he must bear it! Yet what was life worth now that he should struggle like this to preserve it?
Ralph returned to his old conviction--God's hand was on him.

The idea, morbid as it might be, brought him solace this time.

Once more he stopped, and turned his eyes afresh towards the north and the fifty miles of darkness that lay between him and those he loved.
It was at that very moment of desolation that Rotha heard the neigh of a horse as she leaned out of her open window.
II.