dim twilights at Enderley.

"I intend," John said, "as soon as I am able, to leave Norton Bury, and
go abroad for some time."

"Where?"

"To America. It is the best country for a young man who has neither
money, nor kindred, nor position--nothing, in fact, but his own right
hand with which to carve out his own fortunes--as I will, if I can."

She murmured something about this being "quite right."

"I am glad you think so." But his voice had resumed that formal tone
which ever and anon mingled strangely with its low, deep tenderness.
"In any case, I must quit England. I have reasons for so doing."

"What reasons?"

The question seemed to startle John--he did not reply at once.

"If you wish I will tell you; in order that, should I ever come
back--or if I should not come back at all, you who were kind enough to
be my friend will know I did not go away from mere youthful
recklessness, or love of change."

He waited, apparently for some answer--but it came not, and he
continued:

"I am going because there has befallen me a great trouble, which, while
I stay here, I cannot get free from or overcome. I do not wish to sink
under it--I had rather, as you said, 'Do my work in the world' as a man
ought. No man has a right to say unto his Maker, 'My burthen is
heavier than I can bear.' Do you not think so?"

"I do."

"Do you not think I am right in thus meeting, and trying to conquer, an
inevitable ill?"

"IS it inevitable?"

"Hush!" John answered, wildly. "Don't reason with me--you cannot
judge--you do not know. It is enough that I must go. If I stay I
shall become unworthy of myself, unworthy of--Forgive me, I have no
right to talk thus; but you called me 'friend,' and I would like you to
think kindly of me always. Because--because--" and his voice
shook--broke down utterly. "God love thee and take care of thee,
wherever I may go!"

"John, stay!"

It was but a low, faint cry, like that of a little bird. But he heard
it--felt it. In the silence of the dark she crept up to him, like a
young bird to its mate, and he took her into the shelter of his love
for evermore. At once all was made clear between them; for whatever
the world might say, they were in the sight of heaven equal, and she
received as much as she gave.

* * * * *

When Jael brought in lights the room seemed to me, at first, all in a
wild dazzle. Then I saw John rise, and Miss March