He put her from him almost roughly, and leaning against the trunk
of a tree buried his face in his hands. Betty watched him for a
moment in wretched silence.

"Don't feel so bad, Bruce," she said brokenly. "I am not worth
it. I tried not to love you--I didn't want to." She raised a
white face to his.

"I am going now, Betty. You--you shouldn't stay here any longer
with me." He spoke with sudden resolution.

"And I shall not see you again?" she asked, in a low, stifled
voice.

"It's good-by--" he muttered.

"Not yet--oh, not yet, Bruce--" she implored. "I can not--"

"Yes--now, dear. I don't dare stay--I may forget--" but he
turned again to her in entreaty. "Give me something to remember
in all the years that are coming when I shall be alone--let me
kiss you on the lips--let me--just this once--it's good-by we're
saying--it's good-by, Betty!"

She went to him, and, as he bent above her, slipped her arms
about his neck.

"Kiss me--" she breathed.

He kissed her hair, her soft cheek, then their lips met.