sun. It hurts my eyes."

"No," he answered steadily, "I was looking at you."

She thrilled as he spoke and brought her eyes to the level of his. Then
she would have looked away, but his gaze held her, and she made a sudden
movement of alarm--a swift tremor to escape. She held the sheaf of
goldenrod to her bosom and above it her eyes shone; her breath came
quickly between her parted lips. All her changeful beauty was startled
into life.

"Genia!" he said softly, so softly that he seemed speaking to himself.
"Genia!"

"Yes?" She responded in the same still whisper.

"You know?"

"Yes, I know," she repeated slowly. Her glance fell from his and she
turned away.

"You know it is--impossible," he said.

"Yes, I know it is impossible."

There was a gasp in her voice. She turned to move onward--a briar caught
her dress; she stumbled for an instant, and he flung out his arms.

"You know it is impossible," he said, and kissed her.

The sheaf of goldenrod loosened and scattered between them. Her head lay
on his arm, and he felt her warm breath come and go. Her face was
upturned, and he saw her eyes as he had never seen them before--light on
light, shadow on shadow. He looked at her in the brief instant as a man
looks to remember--at the white brow--the red mouth, at the blue veins,
and the dark hair, at the upward lift of the chin and the straight
throat--at all the perfect colouring and the imperfect outline.

"You know it is impossible," he repeated, and put her from him.

Eugenia gathered herself together like one stunned. "I must go," she
said breathlessly. "I must go."

Then she hesitated and stood before him, her hands on her bosom, a
single spray of goldenrod clinging to her dress.

He folded his arms as he faced her.

"I have loved you all my life," he said.

She bowed her head; her face had gone white.

"I shall always love you," he went on. "You may as well know it. Men
change, but I do not. I have never really loved anybody else. I have
tried to love my family, but I never did. When I was a little,
God-forsaken chap I used to want to love people, but I couldn't--I
couldn't even love the judge--whom I would die for. I love you."

"I know it," she said.

"If you will wait I will work for you. I will work until they let me
have you. I don't mean that I shall ever be good enough for you--because
I shall not be. I shall always be a brute beside you--but if you will
wait I will win you. I swear it!"