le richer
than you. I do not think that that is your only motive. It is since you
heard that I was one of the Luttrell-Murrays that you have spoken in
this way."

"What if it were? The fact remains," he said, gloomily. "You do not care
for me; and I--I would give my very soul for you, Elizabeth. I had
better go. Think of me kindly when I am away--that is all. I see Miss
Heron and the boys on the brow of the hill signalling to us. Will you
excuse me if I say good-bye to you now, and walk back towards
Strathleckie?"

"Must it be now?" she said, scarcely knowing what the words implied. She
turned her face towards him with a look that he never forgot--a look of
inexpressible regret, of yearning sweetness, of something only too like
the love that he thought he had failed to win. It caused him to turn
back and to lean over her with a half-whispered question--

"Would it have been possible, Elizabeth, if we had met earlier, do you
think that you ever could have loved me?"

"Do you think you ought to ask me?"

"Ah, give me one word of comfort before I go. Remember that I go for
ever. It will do no one any harm. Could you have loved me, Elizabeth?"

"I think I could," she murmured in so low a tone that he could hardly
hear the words. He seized her hands and pressed them closely in his own;
he could do no more, for the Herons were very near. "Good-bye, my love,
my own darling!" were the last words she heard. They rang in her ears as
if they had been as loud as a trumpet-call; she could hardly believe
that they had not re-echoed far and wide across the moor. She felt giddy
and sick. The last sight of his face was lost in a strange, momentary
darkness. When she saw clearly again he was walking away from her with
long, hasty strides, and her cousins were close at hand. She watched him
eagerly, but he did not turn round. She knew instinctively that he had
resolved that she should never see his face again.

"What is the matter, Betty?" cried one of the children. "You look so
white! And where is Mr. Stretton going? Mr. Stretton! Wait for us!"

"Don't call Mr. Stretton," said Elizabeth, collecting her forces, and
speaking as nearly as possible in her ordinary tone. "He wants to get
back to Strathleckie as quickly as possible. I am rather tired and am
resting."

"You are not usually tired with so short a walk," said Kitty, glancing
sharply at her cousin's pallid cheeks. "Are you not well?"

"Yes, I am quite well," Elizabeth a