gether;
thinking of the pure, unselfish, Christian womanhood which crowned her
with its consecrating light. Back and forth, back and forth, and her
sweet young face burned itself into my mind with every step I took. Down
the avenue, then up, and I leaned against the corrugated trunk of an
oak, and fastened my eyes upon the windows of her room. The blinds were
drawn, but she was up, for a light showed through them. Salome!
Salome!--that was the one thought of my mind, the one bitter cry from my
aching heart. There was a shadow on the curtain; a bare, uplifted arm
was silhouetted against it. God bless you, Salome! My Salome!
Good-night!

The next day I kept to my room, sending word that my head was troubling
me. In the afternoon I went out and sat upon the porch, turning my
troubled face towards the peaceful west. The sun was sinking, swathed in
purple robes. Far stretching on either side were azure seas, with
dun-colored islands dotting their broad expanses. Below me wound the
dusty pike, like a yellow ribbon, flanked on one side by the half-dry
creek, and on the other by a field of tasselled corn. A crow sat upon
the dead limb of a sycamore, and cawed, and cawed, in noisy unrest. The
weight which had been placed upon my breast two months before seemed
like a millstone now. The consciousness of hopelessness made it heavier
than before.

"Has your headache gone, Mr. Stone?"

She had come to the doorway without my knowledge, and now advanced
towards me with a tender, questioning look upon her face.

"Yes," I answered in quiet desperation, turning my face from her. "The
pain has gone to my heart."

She stood beside me, silently, and I felt the muscles hardening in my
cheeks, as I shut my jaws tight to keep back the flood of words which
rushed to my lips, and clamored for utterance. Presently I felt that I
could speak rationally.

"How long before you return to school?"

"Three weeks; I wish I did not have to go."

"Let's walk down to the grape-vine swing," I proposed abruptly, turning
to her with set face.

She held her sunbonnet in her hand,--the same bonnet she always wore out
of doors about the farm,--and she settled it on her brown, fluffy hair
as I arose. The swing was in one corner of the yard, quite away from the
house, and it had come to be one of our favorite resorts at twilight.
This afternoon she occupied it, as was her custom, and I sat at the base
of a walnut tree close by her. Something had fallen