that he would ever go
away. He caressed her, and played with her as a boy may with a bird
before he wrings its neck.

"You will come back?"

He kissed her: "Surely."

"To-morrow?"

"Nay--not so soon."

"In a week?"

"Hardly."

"In a month, then?"

"Perhaps."

"Before winter, anyway?"

He looked aside from the beseeching, tearful, candid eyes, and kissed her
hair and her throat, and said, "Yes, dear--beyond a doubt."

She clung to him, crying silently; he wished that women would not weep.

"Come, Bebee, listen," he said coaxingly, thinking to break the
bitterness to her. "This is not wise, and it gives me pain. There is so
much for you to do. You know so little. There is so much to learn. I will
leave you many books, and you must grow quite learned in my absence. The
Virgin is all very well in her way, but she cannot teach us much, poor
lady. For her kingdom is called Ignorance. You must teach yourself. I
leave you that to do. The days will go by quickly if you are laborious
and patient. Do you love me, little one?"

For an answer she kissed his hand.

"You are a busy little Bebee always," he said, with his lips caressing
her soft brown arms that were round his neck. "But you must be busier
than ever whilst I am gone. So you will forget. No, no, I do not mean
that:--I mean so the time will pass quickest. And I shall finish your
picture, Bebee, and all Paris will see you, and the great ladies will
envy the little girl with her two wooden shoes. Ah! that does not
please you?--you care for none of these vanities. No. Poor little Bebee,
why did God make you, or Chance breathe life into you? You are so far
away from us all. It was cruel. What harm has your poor little soul ever
done that, pure as a flower, it should have been sent to the hell of this
world?"

She clung to him, sobbing without sound. "You will come back? You will
come back?" she moaned, clasping him closer and closer.

Flamen's own eyes grew dim. But he lied to her: "I will--I promise."

It was so much easier to say so, and it would break her sorrow. So
he thought.

For the moment again he was tempted to take her with him--but, he
resisted it--he would tire, and she would cling to him forever.

There was a long silence. The bleating of the little kid in the shed
without was the only sound; the gray lavender blew to and fro.

Her arms were close about his throat; he kissed them again, and kissed
her eyes, her cheek, her mouth; then p