care so much that I thought of nothing else,
wanted nothing else, but to be near you. But never, never for one
instant, and, Katrine, it is of this you must think always, _never for
one instant did I intend to marry you!_"

She placed one hand against the bench for support, her face exquisitely
pale, her eyes darkened, her mouth drawn; but she regarded him steadily
and bravely as he continued.

"I might make excuses for my conduct; might even lie about there being
some obstacles, my mother's objections, the rest of the family, but I
don't want to do that. I want you to know the truth just as it stands,
to know me exactly as I am. My mother would object to my marrying you,
but if I did it she would in time become reconciled. I have my way with
her. The only thing that stands between us is my pride, family pride. It
is sending me away from you. I am going to-day, going to-day, because I
do not dare to stay."

Still she spoke no word, but sat looking away from him into the ocean of
roses.

"For God's sake, say something to me, Katrine!" he cried, at length.
"Tell me even that I am the contemptible cad you think me to be; only
say something. I cannot endure this. With every fibre of me I am longing
to take you in my arms, to kiss your eyes that have the ache in them.
God knows how I want you and how I am suffering!"

Her lips quivered for an instant before she controlled herself to speak.

"There seems nothing to say except 'Good-bye.'"

Her voice was infinitely sad and tender. There was neither anger nor
resentment in it, and she rose as though to leave him, but he held her
back. The great womanliness of her, the ability to suffer in silence,
and the dignity of such a silence touched him strangely. There was a sob
in his throat as he spoke.

"Forgive me!" he said. "Oh, say you forgive me, Katrine!"

"Dear," she answered--and as she spoke she put her hand on his brown
hair, as a mother might have done, "I don't want you to suffer like
this. I might have known, had I thought about it at all, that you would
never marry me. But it seemed so perfect as it was, I never thought at
all, I just," it seemed as though she were saying her worst to him, "I
just trusted you."

He flung out one arm as though to protect himself from a physical blow,
and a moan escaped him.

"Let me tell you about myself," she continued; "it will be best, for we
may never meet again. Oh, please God," she cried, suddenly, "we may
never meet a