at down, in her old place, but he stood at the table, bending
toward the light. His boyish mouth trembled a little, his hands were
unsteady, and there was a world of love and pain in his eyes. With his
voice breaking upon the words, he read:

"Two separate divided silences,
Which, brought together, would find loving voice;
Two glances which together would rejoice
In love, now lost like stars beyond dark trees;
Two hands apart, whose touch alone gives ease;
Two bosoms which, heart-shrined with mutual flame,
Would, meeting in one clasp, be made the same;
Two souls, the shores wave-mocked of sundering seas:--

Such are we now. Ah! may our hope forecast
Indeed one hour again, when on this stream
Of darkened love once more the light shall gleam?--
An hour how slow to come, how quickly past,--
Which blooms and fades, and only leaves at last,
Faint as shed flowers, the attenuated dream."

For a moment the silence was tense. Then the hall clock struck the hour
of midnight. It beat upon their senses like a funeral knell. Then
Edith, white-faced, and struggling valiantly for self-control, reached
out her hand for the book.

[Sidenote: Good-bye]

"Good-night, Boy," she said, "for the last time."

"Good-night," he answered, gathering her into his arms.

"And good-bye, Boy, forever!"

"Forever," he echoed, "good-bye!"

He kissed her again, not with passion, but with the love that has risen
above it. Then she released herself, and, holding the little red book
against her heart, ran quickly up-stairs.

He waited until the echo of her footsteps had died away, and her door
had closed softly. Then he put out the lights, and sat there for a long
time in the darkness, thinking, before he went to his room.

XX

"The Lady Traveller"

[Sidenote: Grandmother's Loss]

"They ain't on the bureau and they ain't on the washstand, and I
disremember takin' 'em out last night when I went to bed, so I must have
swallered 'em." Grandmother's speech was somewhat blurred but her
meaning was distinct.

"Well," returned Matilda, with aggravating calmness, "if you have
swallowed 'em, you have, so what of it?"

"Matilda Starr! I should think you'd have some human feelin's about you
somewheres. Here your mother's gone and swallered her false teeth and
you set there, not tryin' to do anything for her."

"What can I do? I can't stand on a chair and swin