rying me I could not live and endure
the--the certainty of your return."

He raised his head and surveyed her with deepest pity. Mad--quite mad!
And so young--so exquisite... so perfectly charming in body! And the mind
darkened forever.... How terrible! How strange, too; for in the pure-
lidded eyes he seemed to see the soft light of reason not entirely
quenched.

Their eyes encountered, lingered; and the beauty of her gaze seemed to
stir him to the very wellspring of compassion.

"Would it make you any happier to believe--to know," he added hastily,
"that you and I were married?"

"Y-yes, I think so."

"Would you be quite happy to believe it?"

"Yes--if you call that happiness."

"And you would not be unhappy if I never returned?"

"Oh, no, no! I--that would make me--comparatively--happy!"

"To be married to me, and to know you would never again see me?"

"Yes. Will you?"

"Yes," he said soothingly. And yet a curious little throb of pain
flickered in his heart for a moment, that, mad as she undoubtedly was,
she should be so happy to be rid of him forever.

He came slowly across the room to the table on which she was sitting. She
drew back instinctively, but an ominous ripping held her.

"Are you going for a license and a--a clergyman?" she asked.

"Oh, no," he said gently, "that is not necessary. All we have to do is to
take each other's hands--so----"

She shrank back.

"You will have to let me take your hand," he explained.

She hesitated, looked at him fearfully, then, crimson, laid her slim
fingers in his.

The contact sent a quiver straight through him; he squared his shoulders
and looked at her.... Very, very far away it seemed as though he heard
his heart awaking heavily.

What an uncanny situation! Strange--strange--his standing here to humor
the mad whim of this stricken maid--this wonderfully sweet young
stranger, looking out of eyes so lovely that he almost believed the dead
intelligence behind them was quickening into life again.

"What must we do to be married?" she whispered.

"Say so; that is all," he answered gently. "Do you take me for your
husband?"

"Yes.... Do you t-take me for your--wife?"

"Yes, dear----"

"Don't say _that_!... Is it--over?"

"All over," he said, forcing a gayety that rang hollow in the pathos of
the mockery and farce.... But he smiled to be kind to her; and, to make
the poor, clouded mind a little happier still, he took her hand again and
said ve