always do. _They_
send me--very much against my will--still, I must obey."

She sighed. Then after a moment she put out her hand with a caressing
little gesture. "What was your terrible dream?" she said. "I see it is
troubling you still. You are _distrait_ and absent. Tell me."

He touched the white hand with his lips.

"I would rather not," he said, "because you were concerned in it, and it
seemed as if you were trying to reveal something or show me something
that I dreaded to see. It was in fighting against seeing it that I
awoke."

She started from her reclining position and fixed her eyes on his face.
"Julian," she cried, in a sudden breathless way, "was it--was it?--No."
She broke off and wrung her hands helplessly. "It has escaped me again.
I _cannot_ remember. Oh, that I could! It tortures me so. Julian--"
and she looked at him appealingly. "_You_ must help me--you must bring
it back. I will not wed you till that mystery is solved. Something
warns me against it."

"My dearest," he said soothingly, "do not excite yourself in this
fashion. It can make no difference to me that there should be mystery
or tragedy in your past life. Have I not always loved you? Have we not
chosen the same path in life, only now we shall tread it side by side,
not one far in advance of the other? The infinite delight of that
companionship shall not be marred by any memories of the past. If I am
content to let it rest, surely you may be."

She drew herself away. Her deep strange eyes looked coldly and yet
mournfully back to his yearning gaze.

"You were never a coward, Julian," she said. "What is it you fear now?"

He threw himself on his knees by her side and buried his face in the
soft white furs. She saw that he was trembling greatly. "I cannot
tell," he said hoarsely. "Would to God that I could! But if you should
change, if you should repent--Oh! to lose your love now would kill me!"

She laid her hand on his bowed head. "Rest assured you shall not lose
_that_," she said in her low thrilling voice. "No, Julian, that is not
the danger--it threatens me, not you. There will be no change on my
part, not so far as my love is concerned. Will that assurance satisfy
you?"

"You need not ask that, beloved? But why disturb our peace? If I am
content--"

"There must be no secret between your soul and mine," she said solemnly.
"For what, think you, is your power granted, but that I may answer to
it, t