"'Why did you come out at this late hour?' he said, looking down upon me with gentle compassion in his eyes.
"'I could not sleep. I was so unhappy that the close air of the house stifled me.'
"'I understand,' he replied, almost mournfully. 'It is the old story. I too—but what matters that—the air of the house was oppressive. No matter, I shall quit it to-morrow.'
"'To-morrow,—and you will go?'
"'Yes; Dennison is an old friend—a dear old friend. I shall go to-morrow.'
"'To-morrow, and forever!' I cried, in a burst of passionate despair, which frightened me the moment it left my lips.
"He did not answer in words, but took my two hands between his, and bent his eyes upon me with a glance so searching, that I shrunk away from him, for the moonlight gave supernatural intensity to his face.
"'To-morrow, and I think forever; believe me, it is better so.'
"'Better? Forever! forever! Oh, these are terrible words!' I cried, scarcely caring to conceal the anguish which wrung such expressions from me.
"'They seem terrible to youth, I know,' he answered, sadly; 'but after a while you will learn that time softens even our ideas of eternity. Life is, and must be, one continued scene of parting.'