g
as they went. Olof walked up the hill towards his home.

"Never shall we part...."

--he took up the words half aloud, and his face was set in a strange
expression of resolution and eager, almost fierce, delight.

A MOTHER'S EYES

The warm, soft twilight of a spring night filled the room. And all was
still.

"Oh, I have waited for you so!" whispered the girl, flinging her arms
round her lover's neck. "I was so afraid you would not come--that
something might have happened...."

"And what could happen, and who could keep me from coming to you? But
I could not come before--I don't know what it was made mother stay up
so late to-night."

"Do you think she ..." began the girl. But a passionate kiss closed
her lips.

"If you only knew how I have been longing for you," said he. "All day
I've been waiting for the evening to come. I've thought of nothing
else since I first looked into your eyes--Gazelle!"

"Do you mean it, Olof?" She nestled closer to him as she spoke.

"And do you know what I was thinking as I walked behind the plough?
I wanted you to be a tiny flower, to put in my breast, so I could
see you all the time. Or a sweet apple I could keep in my pocket and
fondle secretly--talk to you and play with you and no one ever to
know."

"How prettily you talk, Olof!"

"If anyone had told me, I would never have believed love was like
this. It's all so strange. Do you know, I want to...."

"Yes? Tell me!"

"Crush you to death--like this!"

"Oh, if I could die like that--now, now...."

"No, no--but to crush you slowly, in a long, long kiss."

The twilight quivered in the room. And all was still.

A sound, a creaking noise as of a door in the next room opening.

Two heads were raised from the pillow, two hearts stopped beating.

Again--and more distinctly now--as if someone moved.

He sat up; the girl grasped his hand in fear.

They could hear it plainly now--footsteps, coming nearer. Heavily,
hesitatingly, as if not knowing whether to go on or turn back.

Olof was petrified. It was all unreal as a dream, and yet--he knew
that step--would know it among a thousand.

"I must go!" He pressed the girl's hand fiercely, and reached
hurriedly for his hat. He groped his way toward the door, found the
handle, but had not strength to open it.

He strove to pull himself together. He must go--for the sake of the
girl who lay trembling there in bed, and more for the sake of her who
stood in the