s. Then, a trifle dazed, she
looked up at him. "To-morrow?"

"Yes."

"Are you coming back?"

"Perhaps--next year."

"_Next--year!_"

"Do you--find it--a long time?"

Her straight brows bent inward a little, the startled gray eyes became
clear and steady. "Of course I knew that you must go--some time. But I
had no idea that it would be so soon. Somehow, I have thought of you as
being--here----"

"Do you care?"

Her honest eyes widened. "Care?" she repeated.

"Yes. How greatly do you care?"

The straight brows contracted still more as she stood considering
him--so close that the fresh and subtle youth of her freshened the night
again with its faint perfume.

Again he touched her hands with his lips, she watching him palely, out
of clear, gray eyes; then, as they turned away together, he encircled
her slender waist with his arm.

That she was conscious of it, and not disturbed by it, was part of her
new mystery to him. Only once, as they walked, when his circling clasp
tightened, did she rest her own hand over his where it held her body
imprisoned. But she said nothing; nor had he spoken when the belt of
pines loomed against the stars once more.

Then, though neither had spoken, they stopped. He turned to face her,
drew her into his arms, and the beating of his heart almost suffocated
him as he looked into her eyes, clear, unshrinking eyes of gray, with a
child's question in their starry depths.

And he answered the question as in a dream: "I love you. I want you for
my wife. I want you to love me. You are the first woman I have cared
for. All that you are I want--no more than you are. You, as you are now,
are all that I care for in the world. Life is young for us both, yet.
Let us grow up together--if you can love me. Can you?"

"I don't know."

"Can you not care for me a little, Molly?"

"I do. I know--nothing about--love--real love."

"Can you not imagine it, dear?"

"I--it is what I _have_ imagined--a man--like you--coming this way into
my loneliness. I recognize it. I have dreamed that it was like this.
What is it that I should do--if this is really to come true?"

"Love me."

"I would--if I knew how. I don't know how," she said wistfully. "My
heart is so full--already--of your goodness--I--and then this dream I
have dreamed--that a man like you should come here and say this to
me----"

"Is it in you to love me?"

"I'll try--if you'll tell me what to do--how to show it--to
understand-