r desire it."

"What motive do you suppose prompted me to send for you on the eve of your
departure?"

"I am utterly at a loss to conjecture. I once thought you too generous to
wish to inflict pain unnecessarily on any one; but God knows this interview
is inexpressibly painful to me."

A numbing suspicion crossed her mind, blanching lip and cheek to the hue of
death, and hardening her into the old statue-like expression. Had he,
indeed, ceased to love her? Had Salome finally won her place in his heart?
He saw, without comprehending, the instantaneous change which swept over
her features, and regarded her with mingled impatience and perplexity.

"If such be the truth, Colonel Aubrey, the interview is ended."

He bowed, and turned partially away, but paused irresolute, chained by that
electrical pale face, which no man, woman, or child ever looked at without
emotion.

"Before we part, probably for ever, I should like to know why you sent for
me."

"Do you remember that, one year ago to-night, we sat on the steps of the
factory, and you told me of the feeling you had cherished for me from your
boyhood?"

"It was a meeting too fraught with pain and mortification to be soon
forgotten."

"I believe you thought me cold, heartless, and unfeeling then?"

"There was no room to doubt it. Your haughty coldness carried its own
interpretation."

"Because I knew that such was the harsh opinion you had entertained for
twelve months, I sought this opportunity to relieve myself of an unjust
imputation. If peace had been preserved, and you had always remained
quietly here, I should never have undeceived you--for the same imperative
reasons, the same stern necessity, which kept me silent on the night to
which I allude, would have sealed my lips through life. But all things are
changed; you are going into the very jaws of death, with what result no
human foresight can predict; and now, after long suffering, I feel that I
have earned and may claim the right to speak to you of that which I have
always expected to bury with me in my grave."

Again her crowned head bowed itself.

Past bitterness and wounded pride were instantly forgotten; hope kindled in
his dark, stern face, a beauty that rarely dwelt there, and, throwing down
his hat, he stepped forward and took her folded hands in his strong grasp.

"Irene, do you intend me to understand--are you willing that I shall
believe that, after all, I have an interest in your heart-