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“Gerson Brandt, is love the greatest of all the sins?” asked Walda, looking up into the face of the school-master, who bestowed upon her a look searching and withal tender.

“It is not given to me to judge what is the greatest sin a woman can commit,” Gerson Brandt answered, slowly. “I have heard that love bringeth pain and sorrow and disappointment.”

“Yet there are many who do not seem afraid to risk sorrow for love. Truly there must be some compensation for it,” said Walda.

“There is, there is,” replied the school-master. “At first it intoxicates; it bringeth fair dreams, high hopes, and a courage strong enough to face all the ills that earth can bring to men and women.”

“Surely thou speakest with authority, Gerson Brandt.” As Walda spoke there was a little smile upon her lips. “I might almost think that thou hadst known the joy and pain of loving.”

“In books I have read of the love of men and women. There is one named Shakespeare, who long ago wrote much of the history of the human heart.”