ssion, and she knew that he was not certain on the
point himself.

"Yes, Evelyn, I do, indeed I do;" and convinced for the moment that what
he said was true, he took her hands, and looking at her he added, "It
was her wish, and if what you believe be true, she is listening now from
behind that blue sky."

Both were trembling, and while the swans floated by, they considered the
depth of blue contained in the sky. He was taken with a little dread,
and was surprised to find in himself a vague, haunting belief in the
possibility of an after life. Suddenly his self-consciousness fell from
him, was merged in his instinct of the woman.

"Evelyn, if I don't marry you I shall lose you. I cannot lose you, that
would be to lose everything. I don't ask any questions, whether you like
Ulick Dean, nor even what your relations are. I only want to know if you
will marry me."

He read in her eyes that the tale of their love was ended, and heard his
future life ring hollow. It seemed strange that at such a moment the
serene swans should float about them, that the water-fowl should move in
and out of the reeds, and that the green park and the cloudless sky were
like painted paper.

"Then everything is over, everything I had to live for, all is a blank.
But when you sent me away before, you had to take me back; you're not a
woman who can live without a lover."

"It is difficult, I know."

"What has come between us, tell me? This fellow Ulick Dean or religious
scruples?"

"I have no right to talk about religious scruples."

"Then it is this man. You love him, you've ceased to care for me, and
you ask me to barter my right to kiss you, to take you in my arms, so
that I may remain your friend." "Why, Evelyn, have you got tired of me?"

"But I have not got tired of you, Owen. I am very fond of you."

"Yes, but you don't care any more for me to make love to you."

"Of course it is not the same as it was in the beginning, but there is
affection."

"When passion is dead, all is dead, the rest is nothing."

It seemed so shameful that he should suffer like this, and she strove to
rouse herself out of her stony determination. She was like one upon a
rampart; she could see the surrounding country, but could not escape to
it; this rampart was the instinct, in which Nature had shut her soul.
But she could not bear to see him cry.

"Oh, Evelyn, this cannot be."

Then, feeling that the reality was too brutal, she yielded to the
tempt