eir pines.
On the slopes of the nearer hills little towns clung, here and there;
closer yet farm-houses showed themselves among the vines and olives.

It was very simple, as the life in it must always have been; and Lanfear
wondered if the elemental charm of the scene made itself felt by his
companion as they climbed the angles of the inclines, in a silence
broken only by the picking of the donkey's hoofs on the rude mosaic of
the pavement, and the panting of the peasant girl at its heels. On the
top of the last upward stretch they stopped for the view, and Miss
Gerald asked abruptly: "Why were you so sad?"

"When was I sad?" he asked, in turn.

"I don't know. Weren't you sad?"

"When I was here yesterday, you mean?" She smiled on his fortunate
guess, and he said: "Oh, I don't know. It might have begun with
thinking--

'Of old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago.'

You know the pirates used to come sailing over the peaceful sea yonder
from Africa, to harry these coasts, and carry off as many as they could
capture into slavery in Tunis and Algiers. It was a long, dumb kind of
misery that scarcely made an echo in history, but it haunted my fancy
yesterday, and I saw these valleys full of the flight and the pursuit
which used to fill them, up to the walls of the villages, perched on the
heights where men could have built only for safety. Then, I got to
thinking of other things--"

"And thinking of things in the past always makes you sad," she said, in
pensive reflection. "If it were not for the wearying of always trying to
remember, I don't believe I should want my memory back. And of course to
be like other people," she ended with a sigh.

It was on his tongue to say that he would not have her so; but he
checked himself, and said, lamely enough: "Perhaps you will be like
them, sometime."

She startled him by answering irrelevantly: "You know my mother is dead.
She died a long while ago; I suppose I must have been very little."

She spoke as if the fact scarcely concerned her, and Lanfear drew a
breath of relief in his surprise. He asked, at another tangent: "What
made you think I was sad yesterday?"

"Oh, I knew, somehow. I think that I always know when you are sad; I
can't tell you how, but I feel it."

"Then I must cheer up," Lanfear said. "If I could only see you strong
and well, Miss Gerald, like this girl--"

They both looked at the peasant, and she laughed in sympathy with their