he asked, "what would you do?"

"If love were all," she answered, "I'd put my arms around you, like
this, never to be unclasped again. I'd go with you to-night, to the end
of the world, and ask for nothing but that we might be together. I'd
face the heat of the desert uncomplainingly, the cold of perpetual
snows. I'd bear anything, suffer anything, do anything. I'd so merge my
life with yours that one heart-beat would serve us both, and when we
died, we'd go together--if love were all."

"God bless you, dear!" he murmured, with his lips against hers.

"And you. Come."

The boat swung out over the shallows into the middle of the stream,
where the current took them slowly and steadily toward home. For the
most part they drifted, though Alden took care to keep the boat well out
from shore, and now and then, with the stroke of an oar dipped up a
myriad of mirrored stars.

[Sidenote: Seeking for a Message]

Edith laughed. "Give me one, won't you, please?"

"You shall have them all."

"But I asked only for one."

"Then choose."

She leaned forward, in the scented shadow, serious now, with a quick and
characteristic change of mood. "The love star," she breathed. "Keep it
burning for me, will you, in spite of clouds and darkness--for always?"

"Yes, my queen--for always."

When they reached the house, Madame was nowhere in sight. Divining their
wish to be alone on this last evening together, she had long since gone
to her own room. The candles on the mantel had been lighted and the
reading lamp burned low. Near it was the little red book that Edith had
found at the top of the Hill of the Muses.

Sighing, she took it up. "How long ago it seems," she said, "and yet it
wasn't. Life began for me that night."

"And for me. I read to you, do you remember, just before I kissed you
for the first time?"

"Yes. Read to me again just before you kiss me for the last time, then
give me the book to keep."

"Which one? The same?"

"No," cried Edith. "Anything but that!"

"Then choose. Close your eyes, and choose."

"It's like seeking for a message, or a sign," she said, as she swiftly
turned the pages. Then, with her eyes still closed, she offered him the
book. "Here--read this. Is it a blank page?"

[Sidenote: Severed Selves]

There was a pause, then Edith opened her eyes. "It isn't the first one
you read to me, is it? Don't tell me that it is!"

"No," said Alden, "it isn't, but it's a message. Listen."

She s