dden. Without realising it, he had been from the first drawn
to Hilma, and all through these last terrible days, since the time he
had seen her at Los Muertos, just after the battle at the ditch, she had
obtruded continually upon his thoughts. The sight of her to-day, more
beautiful than ever, quiet, strong, reserved, had only brought matters
to a culmination.

"Are you," he asked her, "are you so unhappy, Hilma, that you can look
forward to no more brightness in your life?"

"Unless I could forget--forget my husband," she answered, "how can I
be happy? I would rather be unhappy in remembering him than happy in
forgetting him. He was my whole world, literally and truly. Nothing
seemed to count before I knew him, and nothing can count for me now,
after I have lost him."

"You think now," he answered, "that in being happy again you would be
disloyal to him. But you will find after a while--years from now--that
it need not be so. The part of you that belonged to your husband can
always keep him sacred, that part of you belongs to him and he to it.
But you are young; you have all your life to live yet. Your sorrow need
not be a burden to you. If you consider it as you should--as you WILL
some day, believe me--it will only be a great help to you. It will make
you more noble, a truer woman, more generous."

"I think I see," she answered, "and I never thought about it in that
light before."

"I want to help you," he answered, "as you have helped me. I want to be
your friend, and above all things I do not want to see your life wasted.
I am going away and it is quite possible I shall never see you again,
but you will always be a help to me."

"I do not understand," she answered, "but I know you mean to be very,
very kind to me. Yes, I hope when you come back--if you ever do--you
will still be that. I do not know why you should want to be so kind,
unless--yes, of course--you were my husband's dearest friend."

They talked a little longer, and at length Presley rose.

"I cannot bring myself to see Mrs. Derrick again," he said. "It would
only serve to make her very unhappy. Will you explain that to her? I
think she will understand."

"Yes," answered Hilma. "Yes, I will."

There was a pause. There seemed to be nothing more for either of them to
say. Presley held out his hand.

"Good-bye," she said, as she gave him hers.

He carried it to his lips.

"Good-bye," he answered. "Good-bye and may God bless you."

He turn