o not mean what you say now, Arthur," she said. "I have given my
promise to my father, and you must help me to be strong, for alone I am
weak, very weak. None can help me but you. You must go, as you said you
would go, but your face shall always be with me here. Though I may not
be your wife, I shall be true to you all my life."

"In such moments as these the woman is always stronger than the man,"
breathed Jimmy Grayson.

Lee dropped her hands again and walked a step or two away.

"Helen," he said, "forgive me, and forget what I said. I was base when I
spoke. But I have found it too hard!--too hard!"

Her eyes still expressed no reproach; there was in them something almost
divine. She loved him the more because of his weakness, although she
would not yield to it.

"It is hard, very hard for us both," she whispered, "but it must be
done. But, Arthur, I love you. I have told you that, and I am not
ashamed of it. I shall never love any one else. It is not possible."

"I know it. I know, too, that your heart will always be mine, but, as
the world sees it, your father is right. I am nothing. I have no right
to a wife--above all, to one such as you. I feel that I have a power
within me, the power to do things which the world would call good, but
there is no chance. I suppose that the chance will come some day--when
it is too late."

Harley started. The words were the echo of his own. "We must go," he
whispered to the candidate. "No one has a right to listen, even without
intention, at this, their last meeting." Jimmy Grayson had already
turned away, and by the faint moonlight sifting through the branches
Harley saw a mist in his eyes. But their movement made a sound, and the
lovers looked up.

"Did you hear a noise? What was it?" asked Helen.

"Only a lizard in the grass or a squirrel rattling the bark of a tree,"
replied Arthur.

They listened a moment, but they heard nothing more, save the faint
stirring of the wind among the leaves and the grass.

"Are you really going, Arthur?" asked Helen, as if, approving it once,
she would like now to hear him deny it.

He looked at her, his face flushing and his eyes alight, as if at last
he heard her ask him to stay; but he saw in her gaze only brave resolve.
She could love him, and yet she had the strength to sacrifice that love
for what she considered her duty. He drew courage from her, and he
lifted his head proudly, although his eyes expressed grief alone.

"Yes,