th. "I would never consent to be your wife,
if I could really divide you. I love you both too well for that."

"Do you love me?" he asked, entirely forgetting his representative part.

Again the reproachful look, which faded away as she met his eyes. She
fell upon his breast, and gave him kisses which were answered with equal
tenderness. Suddenly he covered his face with his hands, and burst into
a passion of tears.

"Jonathan! Oh Jonathan!" she cried, weeping with alarm and sympathetic
pain.

It was long before he could speak; but at last, turning away his head,
he faltered, "I am David!"

There was a long silence.

When he looked up she was sitting with her hands rigidly clasped in her
lap: her face was very pale.

"There it is, Ruth," he said; "we are one heart and one soul. Could he
love, and not I? You cannot decide between us, for one is the other. If
I had known you first, Jonathan would be now in my place. What follows,
then?"

"No marriage," she whispered.

"No!" he answered; "we brothers must learn to be two men instead of one.
You will partly take my place with Jonathan; I must live with half my
life, unless I can find, somewhere in the world, your other half."

"I cannot part you, David!"

"Something stronger than you or me parts us, Ruth. If it were death,
we should bow to God's will: well, it can no more be got away from than
death or judgment. Say no more: the pattern of all this was drawn long
before we were born, and we cannot do any thing but work it out."

He rose and stood before her. "Remember this, Ruth," he said; "it is no
blame in us to love each other. Jonathan will see the truth in my face
when we meet, and I speak for him also. You will not see me again until
your wedding-day, and then no more afterwards--but, yes! ONCE, in some
far-off time, when you shall know me to be David, and still give me the
kiss you gave to-day."

"Ah, after death!" she thought: "I have parted them forever." She was
about to rise, but fell upon the seat again, fainting. At the same
moment Jonathan appeared at David's side.

No word was said. They bore her forth and supported her between them
until the fresh breeze had restored her to consciousness. Her first
glance rested on the brother's hands, clasping; then, looking from one
to the other, she saw that the cheeks of both were wet.

"Now, leave me," she said, "but come to-morrow, Jonathan!" Even then she
turned from one to the other, with a painful