was like then. But he never cared as Miss
Laura does. And I shouldn't have minded so much about her, if I hadn't
found out for myself----" She broke off. "Only three weeks from the
wedding. You couldn't do it, either. Not when it came to only three
weeks from the wedding, you couldn't. You know that as well as I do."

"But you always say everybody ought to do the best for themselves. I
remember your saying so. What sense is there in spoiling our two lives
for the sake of a third?" he said, eagerly and yet heavily. "Why can't
you act up to what you believe in this instance, just as you did when
you threw over that young man?"

She shook her head, looking at him through unshed tears. "I don't
know," she said. "But when it comes to, you can't do it. You know you
can't, either. If we were the weak sort, we might."

He let fall her hand which he had been holding and sat down heavily,
almost with a groan, upon the wooden bench. It was true enough, what
she said. They were both better than their word.

And yet it was not any hope of a future reward which sustained them as
they sat there side by side, not touching each other, while the
Flamborough lights swung out monotonously across the sea and the waves
washed up with regular beat upon the shore. They imagined they
believed this life to be probably all--and yet they did not seize what
they could get and let everything else go. It was because love
constrained them. They felt within themselves the stirring of their
own immortality. But they experienced none of the exultation of
sacrifice as they turned away from the cliff edge and walked silently,
glumly, towards the high road, she trying to wipe the tears away with
her fingers so that he should not notice.

As they neared the gate of the Cottage, Godfrey said suddenly: "You
don't think I'm frightened of what people say?"

She shook her head. "I aren't so silly as that." She hesitated, then
held out her hand. "It's good-bye, then." But her voice trembled
again, though she tried to keep it steady, and the next minute she was
in his arms, crying her heart out.

"Caroline! What are we to do? What are we to do?" he said, the tears
hot in his own eyes. "I can't give you up. I can't live without you."

She clung to him, not answering, and his mind darted back to the name
he had given her that first time he had his arm about her at the
promenade dance. A nymph on fire. There was something just so