Perhaps Kate's answer was the best she could have given. But it stung Alec to the heart, and they went home in a changed silence.--The resolution she came to upon the way was not so good as her answer. She did not love Alec so. He could not understand her; she could not look up to him. But he was only a boy, and therefore would not suffer much. He would forget her as soon as she was out of his sight. So as he was a very dear boy, she would be as kind to him as ever she could, for she was going away soon. She did not see that Alec would either take what she gave for more than she gave, or else turn from it as no gift at all. When they reached the house, Alec, recovering himself a little, requested her to sing. She complied at once, and was foolish enough to sing the following BALLAD. It is May, and the moon leans down all night Over a blossomy land. By her window sits the lady white, With her chin upon her hand. "O sing to me, dear nightingale, The song of a year ago; I have had enough of longing and wail, Enough of heart-break and woe. O glimmer on me, my apple-tree, Like living flakes of snow; Let odour and moonlight and melody In the old rich harmony flow." The dull odours stream; the cold blossoms gleam; And the bird will not be glad. The dead never speak when the living dream-- They are too weak and sad. She listened and sate, till night grew late, Bound by a weary spell. Then a face came in at the garden-gate, And a wondrous thing befell. Up rose the joy as well as the love, In the song, in the scent, in the show! The moon grew glad in the sky above, The blossom grew rosy below. The blossom and moon, the scent and the tune, In ecstasy rise and fall. But they had no thanks for the granted boon, For the lady forgot them all. There was no light in the room except that of the shining air. Alec sat listening, as if Kate were making and meaning the song. But notwithstanding the enchantment of the night, all rosy in the red glow of Alec's heart; notwithstanding that scent of gilly-flowers and sweet-peas stealing like love through every open door and window; notwithstanding the radiance of her own beauty, Kate was only singing a song. It is sad to have all the love and all the mystery to oneself--the other being the centre of the glory, and yet far beyond its outmost ring, sitting on a music-stool at a common piano old-fashioned and jingling, not in fairyland at all in fact, or even believing in its presence. But that night the moon was in a very genial humour, and gave her light plentiful and golden. She would even dazzle a little, if one looked at her too hard. Sho could not dazzle Tibbie though, who was seated with Annie on the pale green grass, with the moon about them in the air and beneath them in the water. "Ye say it's a fine munelicht nicht, Annie." "Ay, 'deed is't. As bonnie a nicht as ever I saw."