bright clear eyes and gazed into his.

"Remember what?" she asked.

"Do you remember the last time we took it, Helen?"

She flushed a trifle, and half involuntarily turned her glance away
again.

"Do you remember?" he asked again, seeing that she was silent.

"Yes, I remember," said the girl, her voice lower--"But I'd rather
you did not--." She stopped short.

"You wish to forget it, Helen?" asked Arthur.

He was trembling with anxiety, and his hands, which were clasped
about his knee, were twitching. "Oh, Helen, how can you?" he went
on, his voice breaking. "Do you not remember the last night that we
sat there by the spring, and you were going away, no one knew for
how long--and how you told me that it was more than you could bear;
and the promise that you made me? Oh, Helen!"

The girl gazed at him with a frightened look; he had sunk down upon
his knee before her, and he caught her hand which lay upon the log
at her side.

"Helen!" he cried, "you cannot mean to forget that? For that promise
has been the one joy of my life, that for which I have labored so
hard! My one hope, Helen! I came to-day to claim it, to tell you--"