"You are tired," he said, with tender contrition. "I have had you so long, and yet—when should I be ready to let you go! Oh, Mildred,—is it any use?" he burst forth suddenly, in a low tone, seizing both her hands and holding them with painful tightness.
A fluttering and wild, loud peeping came from the tangle of vines near which they stood, and a small dark object half fell, half flew down past their heads to the grass below.
Mildred started. "It is Electra,—a falling star." She laughed nervously. "I am glad she fell, else I might be crying now instead of laughing. It would be such a serious unhappiness to me if I should cause you pain, Jack," she added brokenly. "You are so different from anybody else."
"I am answered," he said briefly and steadily; but he did not loosen her hands. "I am going to ask a great deal of you now, Mildred. Can you forget what I have said?"
"I—I am afraid not."
"Please try to; I will help you."
"Help me?" repeated the girl, bewildered.
"Yes, for everything between us shall be the same as before. To-morrow morning you will say to yourself that you had a dream. That is all."
"Very well." The girl regarded him questioningly. "I hope you are not—are not thinking that I might—might speak of it?"
Jack threw his head back and gave an excited laugh before suddenly growing grave and gazing ardently into her eyes.