th me. I could not
get you out of my mind--could think of nothing else. Even in the
meeting with my father, whom I hadn't seen for so long, the thought of
you kept with me. I tried to get rid of it--to forget you, but it was
of no use: sleeping and waking, you--_you were with me!_"

His voice grew almost harsh in its intensity, and the hand that had
hung so stilly beside her closed on the skirt of her dress in her
effort to keep the hot blush from her face.

"When I rode out the next day it was only with the hope of seeing you.
It seemed to me there was only one thing I wanted: to see you again; to
look into your eyes, to hear you speak. All that I had heard about
you--well, I dwelt upon it, and I felt that I must help you. It seemed
as if Fate--Chance--oh, I don't know what to call it!--had _sent_ me to
help you. And when I saw you--ah, well, I can't expect you to
understand what I felt!"

He stopped again, as if he himself were trying to understand it.

"The feeling that fate had something to do with it--you see, it was
quite by chance I started fishing that afternoon, that I saw you at the
house--gave me courage to ask you to let me help you. It sounded
ridiculous to you--of course it did!--but if you only knew how much it
meant to me! It meant that I should see you again; perhaps every day
for--for a long time: ah, well, it meant just life and death to me. And
now--!"

His breath came fast, his eyes dwelt upon her with passionate
eagerness; but he forced himself to speak calmly than he might not
frighten her from his side, might not lose her.

--"Now the truth has come upon me, quite suddenly. It was just now when
I saw that you cared what had happened to me, cared if I were
hurt!--Oh, I know, it was just because you were frightened, it was just
a woman's pity for a fellow that had come to harm, the fear lest I had
broken any bones; but--ah, it showed me my heart, it told me how much I
loved you! Yes; I love you! You are all the world to me: nothing else
matters, _nothing!_"

Her lips quivered, but she did not speak, and the look of trouble, of
doubt, did not leave her face. He waited, his eyes seeking hers,
seeking them for some sign which might still the passion of fear and
suspense with which he was battling, then he said in a low voice that
thrilled with the tempest of emotion which raged under his forced calm:

"Will you not speak to me? Are you angry?"

She raised her head and looked at him--a stran