elentless stream,
To cool your heart, and quench for aye love's fire?

I would not for the world, love, give you pain,
Or ever compass what would cause you grief;
And oh, how well I know that tears are vain!
But love is sweet, my dear, and life is brief;
So, if some day before you I should go
Beyond the sound and sight of song and sea,
'T would give my spirit stronger wings to know
That you remembered still and wept for me.

She was alone in the room. The song was hardly finished when Brent
stepped through the window and laid his hand over hers where they rested
on the keys.

"Why do you sing like that, Elizabeth?" he said, tremulously.

She blushed and lowered her eyes beneath his gaze, as if she already
knew the words that were on his lips, or feared that her soul lay too
bare before him.

"Why do you think of death?" he asked again, imprisoning her hands.

"It was only my mood," she faltered. "I was thinking, and I thought of
the song, and I just sang it."

"Were you thinking of any one in particular, Lizzie?"

Her head drooped lower until her face was hidden, but she did not
answer. A strange boldness had come to him. He went on: "I listened as
you were singing, and it seemed as if every word was meant for me,
Lizzie. It may sound foolish, but I--I love you. Won't you look at me
and tell me that I am right in thinking you love me?" She half raised
her face to his and murmured one word. In it were volumes; he bent down
and kissed her. It was the first time he had ever kissed a girl. He did
it almost fearfully. It was a kiss in which reverence struggled with
passion.

"You are to be my little sweetheart now, and I am to be in your thoughts
hereafter when you sing; only we don't want any more such songs as this
one. I don't want to 'remember still and weep for you,' I want to have
you always by me and work for you. Won't you let me?"

Elizabeth found her tongue for a moment only, but that was enough for
her lover. A happy light gleamed in his eyes: his face glowed. He was
transfigured. Love does so much for a man.

From that time forward, when he was harassed by cares and trouble, he
sought out Elizabeth, and, even though he could seldom tell her all that
was in his heart, he found relief in her presence. He did not often
speak of his trials to her, for, in spite of his love for her, he felt
that she could not understand; but the pleasure he found in her comp