ey, and
up on the hillside where Olive's home could be seen between the trees.
The peacefulness and beauty of the scene seemed to affect him. A look of
wonder came into his eyes, and there was an expression on his face
difficult to describe. But it quickly passed away.

"No, no," he cried, "there is no hope for me. There is nothing worth
living for now, save that. Oh, how I hate her!"

When he came back to breakfast, he was still the same polite but cynical
man whom Mrs. Briggs had grown accustomed to.

"Beautiful mornin', sur. 'Tes lovely 'ere in the summer."

"But the winter will come, Mrs. Briggs."

"Then lev us enjoy the summer while we've a-got et, sur."

"You are a philosopher, Mrs. Briggs; but each must enjoy in his own
way."

"Iss, tha's true; but I d'often feel as 'ow Vale Linden must be
somethin' like the Garden of Eden where our first parents lived
together."

"But the serpent came in, Mrs. Briggs."

"Iss, he ded. But you knaw the promise: 'The seed of the woman shall
bruise the serpent's head.' And it did, ya knaw, sur, it did."

"The serpent seems to be pretty much alive," remarked

Ricordo.

Throughout the whole day he tramped the moors. Taking with him a pasty
which Mrs. Briggs had baked, he stayed the entire day alone, and did not
return until the sun was beginning to set behind the western hills. At
precisely the same time as he had visited Vale Linden Hall the night
before, he again approached the house. He was on the point of ringing
when he saw Olive sitting beneath the broad-spreading branches of a
great tree.

Eagerly he walked towards her.

"Signorina," he said eagerly, "I come to know my fate. On your answer
depend the issues of my life. Am I to be lifted into paradise, or am I
to be cast away into outer darkness?"

Olive was silent for a moment, then she said:

"Before I can answer you, signore, I have a confession to make."

"A confession!" he said. "Oh, but I shall be a very lenient confessor,
if at the end--but you know what I would say. It would weary you to
repeat what I said last night, neither is there need that I should.
Surely you know what is in my heart. Since I saw you last night, no
sleep has visited me. Half the night I tramped the moors, the other half
I tossed sleeplessly on my bed. How could I sleep when I do not know
what my future will be? Never mind the confession, signorina--tell me to
be happy."

"I do not think I can," she replied.

"But you must,