ng you more and more every day."

I was bitterly cast down, crestfallen, numbed with the blow of her
refusal.

"Just now," she said, "I would only be a drag on you. I believe in you.
I have faith in you. I want to see you go out and mix in the battle of
life. I know you will win. For my sake, dear, win. I would handicap you
just now. There are all kinds of chances. Let us wait, boy, just a
year."

I saw the pathetic wisdom of her words.

"I know you fear something will happen to me. No! I think I will be
quite safe. I can withstand him. After a while he will leave me alone.
And if it should come to the worst I can call on you. You mustn't go too
far away. I will die rather than let him lay a hand on me. Till next
June, dear, not a day longer. We will both be the better for the wait."

I bowed my head. "Very well," I said huskily; "and what will I do in the
meantime?"

"Do! Do what you would have done otherwise. Do not let a woman divert
the current of your life; let her swim with it. Go out on the creeks!
Work! It will be better for you to go away. It will make it easier for
me. Here we will both torture each other. I, too, will work and live
quietly, and long for you. The time will pass quickly. You will come and
see me sometimes?"

"Yes," I answered. My voice choked with emotion.

"Now we must go home," she said; "I'm afraid they will be back."

She rose, and I followed her down the narrow trail. Once or twice she
turned and gave me a bright, tender look. I worshipped her more than
ever. Was there ever maid more sweet, more gentle, more quick with
anxious love? "Bless her, O bless her," I sighed. "Whatever comes, may
she be happy." I adored her, but a great sadness filled my heart, and
never a word I spoke.

We reached the cabin, and on the threshold she paused. The others had
not yet returned. She held out both hands to me, and her eyes were
glittering with tears.

"Be brave, my dearest; it's all for my sake--if you love me."

"I love you, my darling; anything for your sake. I'll go to-morrow."

"We're betrothed now, aren't we, dearest?"

"We're betrothed, my love."

She swayed to me and seemed to fit into my arms as a sword fits into its
sheath. My lips lay on hers, and I kissed her with a passionate joy. She
took my face between her hands and gazed at me long and earnestly.

"I love you, I love you," she murmured; "next June, my darling, next
June."

Then she gently slipped away from me, and I