you know what I always think--always look
at, when you kiss me?"

"No--tell me, tell me!" he cried eagerly.

"No--I don't think I can."

"Something you can't tell _me_, Daisy-flower? Come, don't you think
it's your turn to tell me something now?"

"Well, then--only, you mustn't laugh. I know it's silly. I always--I
always look at your neck. There's a big vein just there, and it beats
so prettily all the time. And then I feel as if your soul were flowing
through it--right into me. And it does, for I can feel it!"

"That's the loveliest thing you've ever said in all your life," said
he solemnly. "We won't talk any more now, only be together...."

* * * * *

Spring was near; it was open war between the sun and the cold. The
snowdrifts had begun to disappear.

Strange dreams were at work in Olof's mind.

"She loves me--warmly and truly," he told himself. "But is her love
deep and strong enough for her to forget all else, and give herself up
fully and freely to her lover?"

"And could you let her? Could you accept that sacrifice--from one like
her?"

"No, no. I didn't mean that, of course. But if only I could be
sure--could feel beyond all doubt that she _would_; that she was ready
to give up everything for my sake...."

"And you count _that_ the final test of love? Shame on you!"

The colour faded from the evening sky; the stars were lit ... the
errant fancies died away.

* * * * *

In the brilliant sunlight they returned--the same strange dreams
welling up on every side, like the waters of spring. Behind and before
him, everywhere, insistently, an irresistible song.

"I must know--I must sound the uttermost depths of her love!"

"Can you not see how cruel it would be--cruel to her beyond all
others?"

"But only to know! To ask as if only in jest...."

"In jest? And you would jest with such a thing as this!"

And the dreams sank down into the hurrying waters; yet still the warm
clouds sailed across the sky.

* * * * *

Like a rushing flood--the old desire again.

"Can anything be cruel that is meant in love? A question only--showing
in itself how deeply I love her? It is torture not to know; I must
break through it--I must learn the truth!"

"..." But the other voice was lost in a rush of foaming waters.

* * * * *

He took the girl's hand in his, and spoke warmly, wit