crushing his hands together on his knee. "It is because I
love you. Because I love you so that everything which is not
worthy is hateful to me, myself most of all. It is the only
thing that counts. I used to think I knew what love meant; I
used to think love was a selfish thing that needed love in
return, that it must be fed on love to live, that it needed
vows and tender speeches and caresses, or it would die. I
know now that when one truly cares, he does not ask whether
the other cares or not. It is what one gives that counts, not
what one receives. You have given me nothing--nothing--not a
word nor a look; yet since I have known you I have been more
madly happy in just knowing that you live than I would have
been had any other woman in all the world thrown herself into
my arms and said she loved me above all other men. I am not
fit to tell you this. But to-night I go to try myself, either
never to see you again, or to come back perhaps more worthy to
love you. Think of this when I am gone. Do not speak to me
now. I may have made you hate me for speaking so, or I may
have made you pity me; so let me go not knowing, just loving
you, worshipping you, and holding you apart and above all
other people. I go to fight for you, do you understand? Not
for our Church, not for my people, but for you, to live or die
for you. And I ask nothing from you but that you will let me
love you always."

The Prince bent, and catching up Miss Carson's riding-gloves
that lay beside her on the bench, kissed them again and again,
and then, rising quickly, walked out of the arbor into the
white sunshine, and, without turning, mounted his pony and
galloped across the burning desert in the direction of