d no place--and each time the prospect grew more intolerably blank,
and the pain in his heart more acute and throbbing.

When he faced her that night, after they had returned from a final walk
down by the river, he was as far from a solution as ever. He had avoided
all reference to their separation, and now he stood as a man might at
the parting of the ways, saying: "I will not choose; I cannot choose. I
will wait for some sign, some chance thing, to direct me."

They stood opposite each other, each feeling that there was more to be
said: the girl tender, her eyes cast down, holding her hands to the
fire; he shivering, but not with cold. He had a vague knowledge of the
vast importance of the moment, and he hesitated to speak.

"It's almost spring again, isn't it? And you've been here"--she paused
and looked up with a daring smile--"seems as if you'd been here always."

It was about half-past eight. Mrs. Welsh was setting her bread in the
kitchen; they could hear her moving about. Hartley was down-town
finishing up his business. They were almost alone in the house. Albert's
throat grew dry and his limbs trembled. His pause was ominous. The
girl's smile died away as he took a seat without looking at her.

"Well, Maud, I suppose you know--we're going away to-morrow."

"Oh, must you? But you'll come back?"

"I don't expect to--I don't see how I can. I may never see you again."

"Oh, don't say that!" cried the girl, her face as white as silver, her
clasped hands straining.

"I must go--I must!" he muttered, not daring to look upon her face.

"Oh, what can I do--_we_ do--without you! I can't bear it!"

She stopped, and sank back into a chair, her breath coming heavily from
her twitching lips, the unnoticed tears falling from her staring,
pitiful, wild, appealing eyes, her hands nervously twisting her gloves.

There was a long silence. Each was undergoing a self-revelation; each
was trying to face a future without the other.

"I must go!" he repeated, aimlessly, mechanically. "What can I do here?"

The girl's heavy breathing deepened into a wild little moaning sound,
inexpressibly pitiful, her hungry eyes fixed on his face. She gave way
first, and flung herself down upon her knees at his side, her hands
seeking his neck.

"Albert, I can't _live_ without you now! Take me with you! Don't leave
me!"

He stooped suddenly and took her in his arms, raised her, and kissed her
hair.

"I didn't mean it, Maud; I'll ne