ng. He descended slowly. He knew the sound--angry, fierce,
uncontrollable--because he had heard it before. It checked itself the
instant he reached the ground. Lodusky leaning against a projecting rock
kept her eyes fixed upon the water.

"Why did you come here?" he demanded, a little excitedly. "What are you
crying for? What has hurt you?"

"Nothing" in a voice low and unsteady.

He drew a little nearer to her and for the first time was touched.
She would not look at him, she was softened and altered, in her whole
appearance, by a new pallor.

"Have "--he began, "have I?"

"You!" she cried, turning on him with a bitter, almost wild gesture.
"_You_ wouldn't keer if I was struck _dead_ afore ye!"

"Look here," he said to her, with an agitation he could not master. "Let
me tell you something about myself. If you think I am a passably good
fellow you are mistaken. I am a bad fellow, a poor fellow, an ignoble
fellow. You don't understand?" as she gazed at him in bewilderment. "No,
of course, you don't. God knows I didn't myself until within the last
two weeks. It's folly to say such things to you; perhaps I say them half
to satisfy myself. But I mean to show you that I am not to be trusted.
I think perhaps I am too poor a fellow to love any woman honestly and
altogether. I followed one woman here, and then after all let another
make me waver"--

"Another!" she faltered.

He fixed his eyes on her almost coldly.

"You," he said.

He seemed to cast the word at her and wonder what she would make of it
He waited a second or so before he went on.

"_You_, and yet you are not the woman I love either. Good God! What a
villain I must be. I am an insult to every woman that breathes. It
is not even you--though I can't break from you, and you have made me
despise myself. There! do you know now--do you see now that I am not
worth "--

The next instant he started backward. Before he had time for a thought
she had uttered a low cry, and flung herself down at his feet.

"I don't keer," she panted; "I wont keer fur nothin',--whether ye're
good or bad,--only don't leave me here when ye go away."

*****

A week later Lennox arose one morning and set about the task of getting
his belongings together. He had been up late and had slept heavily and
long. He felt exhausted and looked so.

The day before, his model had given him his last sitting. The picture
stood finished upon the easel. It was a thorough and artistic piece of