touched his heart as that question touched it.
"Angry with you? Oh, my darling, if you only knew how angry I am with
myself! It cuts me to the heart to see how I have distressed you. I am
a miserable selfish wretch; I don't deserve your love. Forgive me, and
forget me. I will make the best atonement I can, Carmina. I will go away
to-morrow."

Under hard trial, she had preserved her self-control. She had resisted
him; she had resisted herself. His sudden submission disarmed her in an
instant. With a low cry of love and fear she threw her arms round his
neck, and laid her burning cheek against his face. "I can't help it,"
she whispered; "oh, Ovid, don't despise me!" His arms closed round
her; his lips were pressed to hers. "Kiss me," he said. She kissed him,
trembling in his embrace. That innocent self-abandonment did not plead
with him in vain. He released her--and only held her hand. There was
silence between them; long, happy silence.

He was the first to speak again. "How can I go away now?" he said.

She only smiled at that reckless forgetfulness of the promise, by which
he had bound himself a few minutes since. "What did you tell me," she
asked playfully, "when you called yourself by hard names, and said you
didn't deserve my love?" Her smile vanished softly, and left only a
look of tender entreaty in its place. "Set me an example of firmness,
Ovid--don't leave it all to me! Remember what you have made me say.
Remember"--she only hesitated for a moment--"remember what an interest I
have in you now. I love you, Ovid. Say you will go."

He said it gratefully. "My life is yours; my will is yours. Decide for
me, and I will begin my journey."

She was so impressed by her sense of this new responsibility, that she
answered him as gravely as if she had been his wife. "I must give you
time to pack up," she said.

"Say time to be with You!"

She fell into thought. He asked if she was still considering when
to send him away. "No," she said; "it isn't that. I was wondering at
myself. What is it that makes a great man like you so fond of me?"

His arm stole round her waist. He could just see her in the darkening
twilight under the trees; the murmuring of the leaves was the only sound
near them--his kisses lingered on her face. She sighed softly. "Don't
make it too hard for me to send you away!" she whispered. He raised her,
and put her arm in his. "Come," he said, "we will walk a little in the
cool air."

They return