ou
five minutes alone to say good-bye. Lucius, we must start," and, turning
to me, he said, "Meet us in five minutes by the oak-tree in the road."

They went out, Lucius kissing Cynthia's hand in silence.

Cynthia came up to me and put her arms round my neck and her cheek to
mine. We sobbed, I fear, like two children.

"Don't forget me, dearest," she said.

"My darling, what a word!" I said.

"Oh, how happy we have been together!" she said.

"Yes, and shall be happier still," I said.

And then with more words and signs of love, too sacred even to be
written down, we parted. It was over. I looked back once, and saw my
darling gather the child to her heart, and look up once more at me. Then
I closed the door; something seemed to surge up in my heart and
overwhelm me; and then the ring on my finger sent a sharp pang through
my whole frame, which recalled me to myself. And I say it with all the
strength of my spirit, I saw how joyful a thing it was to suffer and
grieve. I came down to the oak. The two were waiting in silence, and
Lucius seemed to be in tears. Amroth put his arm through mine.

"Come, brother," he said, "that was a bad business; I won't pretend
otherwise; but these things had better come swiftly."

"Yes," said Lucius, "but it is a cruel affair, and I can't say
otherwise. Why cannot God leave us alone?"

"Lucius," said Amroth very gravely, "here you may say and think as you
will--and the thoughts of the heart are best uttered. But one must not
blaspheme."

"No, no," said Lucius, "I was wrong. I ought not to have spoken so. And
indeed I know in my heart that somehow, far off, it is well. But I was
thinking," he said, turning to me, and grasping my hand in both of his
own, "not of you, but of Cynthia. I am glad with all my heart that you
took her from me, and have made her happy. But what miserable creatures
we all are; and how much more miserable we should be if we were not
miserable!"

And then we started. It was a dreary hour that, full of deep and gnawing
pain. I pictured to myself Cynthia at every moment, what she was doing
and thinking; how swiftly the good days had flown; how perfectly happy
I had been; and so my wretched silent reverie went on.

"I must say," said Amroth at length, breaking a dismal silence, "that
this is very tedious. Can't you take some interest? I have very
disagreeable things to do, but that is no reason why I should be bored
as well!" And he then set himself to talk