reat, swelling golden spaces of wheat. Far below, the
engines and harvesters were humming. Here the wheat waved and rustled in
the wind. It was as high as Lenore's head.

"It's fine wheat," observed Dorn. "But the wheat of my desert hills was
richer, more golden, and higher than this."

"No regrets to-day!" murmured Lenore, leaning to him.

There was magic in those words--the same enchantment that made the hours
fly. She led him, at will, here and there along the rustling-bordered
lanes. From afar they watched the busy harvest scene, with eyes that
lingered long on a great, glittering combine with its thirty-two horses
plodding along.

"I can drive them. Thirty-two horses!" she asserted, proudly.

"No!"

"Yes. Will you come? I will show you."

"It is a temptation," he said, with a sigh. "But there are eyes there.
They would break the spell."

"Who's talking about eyes now?" she cried.

They spent the remainder of that day on the windy wheat-slope, high up,
alone, with the beauty and richness of "Many Waters" beneath them. And
when the sun sent its last ruddy and gold rays over the western hills,
and the weary harvesters plodded homeward, Lenore still lingered, loath
to break the spell. For on the way home, she divined, he would tell her
he was soon to leave.

Sunset and evening star! Their beauty and serenity pervaded Lenore's
soul. Surely there was a life somewhere else, beyond in that infinite
space. And the defeat of earthly dreams was endurable.

They walked back down the wheat lanes hand in hand, as dusk shadowed the
valley; and when they reached the house he told her gently that he must
go.

"But--you will stay to-night?" she whispered.

"No. It's all arranged," he replied, thickly. "They're to drive me
over--my train's due at eight.... I've kept it--till the last few
minutes."

They went in together.

"We're too late for dinner," said Lenore, but she was not thinking of
that, and she paused with head bent. "I--I want to say good-by to
you--here." She pointed to the dim, curtained entrance of the
living-room.

"I'd like that, too," he replied. "I'll go up and get my bag. Wait."

Lenore slowly stepped to that shadowed spot beyond the curtains where
she had told her love to Dorn; and there she stood, praying and fighting
for strength to let him go, for power to conceal her pain. The one great
thing she could do was to show him that she would not stand in the way
of his duty to himself. She rea