n, too, had cleared the air, and the raindrops which here
and there still hung on the grass sparkled in the sunlight.

'It seems,' said Edgecumbe, 'as though the glory of yonder woods is
simply defying the coming of winter. Do you see the colouring, the
almost unearthly beauty, of the leaves? That is because the sun is
shining on them.'

'Yes;' replied Lorna, 'but the winter is coming.'

'Only for a little while, and it only means that nature will take a
rest. It's a glorious thing to live, Miss Bolivick.'

She looked at him earnestly for a few seconds. Perhaps she was
thinking of the illness through which he had passed, and of his
thankfulness at his recovery.

'I am so glad you're better,' she said. 'We were all heart-broken at
your illness. I hope----'

But she did not finish the sentence. Perhaps she saw that he was not
heeding what she said,--saw, too, that his eyes were far away.

For a few seconds they walked on in silence. Then he turned towards
her suddenly.

'I have something to tell you,' he said,--'something very wonderful.'

'You look awfully serious,' and she gave a nervous laugh as she spoke;
'I hope it is nothing to frighten me.'

'Perhaps it is,' he replied, 'but it must be said,--the words would
choke me if I didn't utter them.'

She looked at him like one frightened, but did not speak.

'It is all summed up in three words,' he went on: 'I love you. No,
don't speak yet; it would not be right. I never saw you until Friday
night,--that is, I have no ordinary remembrance of seeing you until
then. My friend had spoken to me about you; he had told me of your
interest in me. He showed me the letter you wrote him. I did not want
to come here, but something, I don't know what it was, made me. When I
saw you on Friday evening, I knew. You stood at the doorway of your
father's house, with the light of the setting sun upon your face. I
could not speak at the time,--words wouldn't come. No wonder, for life
begun for me at that moment,--I mean full life, complete life. When I
saw you, the world became new. You thought I acted strangely, didn't
you? I told you that I never remembered speaking to a woman until
then. In a way, of course, it was foolishness, although in another it
was the truth. My past is a blank,--that is, up to the time I awoke to
a realization that I lived, away in India; and since then my life has
been with men. But that wasn't what I meant. When I saw you, yo