nown who would steal away his Lucille; the
woman thinking of the coming separation from the friend, without whom
life was very empty, dull, and poor. Crossing a field, they reached a
fence and a beautiful view of half the county. Stopping by mutual
consent, they gazed at the peaceful, familiar scene, so ennobled and
etherealized by the moon's soft radiance.

"I shall think of this walk, somehow, whenever I see the full moon,"
said Dam, breaking a long silence.

"And I," replied Lucille.

"I hate going away this time, somehow, more than usual," he blurted
out after another spell of silence. "I can't help wondering whether
you'll be--the same--when I come back at Christmas."

"Why--how should I be different, Dammy?" asked the girl, turning her
gaze upon his troubled face, which seemed to twitch and work as though
in pain.

"How?... Why, you might be--"

"Might be what, dear?"

"You might be--engaged."

The girl saw that in the man's eyes to which his tongue could not, or
would not, give utterance. As he spoke the word, with a catch in his
breath, she suddenly flung her arms round his neck, pressed her lips
to his white face, and, with a little sob, whispered:--

"Not unless to you, Dam, darling--there is no other man in the world
but you," and their lips met in their first lover's kiss.... Oh, the
wonderful, glorious world!... The grand, beautiful old world! Place of
delight, joy, wonder, beauty, gratitude. How the kind little stars
sang to them and the benign old moon looked down and said: "Never
despair, never despond, never fear, God has given you Love. What
matters else?" How the man swore to himself that he would be worthy of
her, strive for her, live for her; if need be--die for her. How the
woman vowed to herself that she would be worthy of her splendid, noble
lover, help him, cheer him, watch over him. Oh, if he might only need
her some day and depend on her for something in spite of his strength
and manhood. How she yearned to do something for him, to give, to
give, to give. Their hour lasted for countless ages, and passed in a
flash. The world intruded, spoiling itself as always.

"Home to dinner, darling," said the girl at last. "Hardly time to
dress if we hurry. Grumper will simply rampage and roar. He gets worse
every day." She disengaged herself from the boy's arms and her
terribly beautiful, painfully exquisite, trance.

"Give me one more kiss, tell me once more that you love me and only
me,