“When will you return?
To which she received a short, “I don’t know.”
Bidding them all good bye he turned to go, when his eye rested for a moment on the swaying form of Alice who found it difficult to stay the hot tears. He hesitated a moment then, approaching the spot where she stood, in a low voice said,
“Come with me down the maple walk.”
Silently they walked until they reached the end, then,
“Do you know why I am going away?”
She shook her head.
“Because my heart yearns for you, and in that vast city dwells a woman whom I call wife. She has not been what the world calls true to me, yet I have treasured her long and faithfully. I feel I ought not to speak of love to another woman so long as she may have need of me. I know it was her own hand that cast the dice, yet I feel that I must know her fate ere I entirely cut loose from her. Oh, I loved her, Alice, in the days when she was mine, and still a latent tenderness lingers in my heart. Maybe she was not wholly to blame, but I have learned new lessons since. I feel a little woman here would prefer me to all others and my heart yearns to claim her. Will you kiss me just once ere I start on this journey which may bring me I know not what?”
Tenderly he raised the drooping head and forced the downcast eyes to look into his. It was too much. Two lips quivered pitifully, like those of some grieved baby, and two great tears rolled over her cheeks down upon the snowy whiteness of her gown. The sight robbed him of self-control. He gathered her in his arms, the tiny morsel, and held her there like some wee baby.
“I only want to see that she does not suffer; that she is taken care of, and then I will return. Indeed I will. Do not fear”—and then he was gone.