To no one was this sad change more painful than Irene. Left alone in the great, silent room, her heart swelled with pain, her eyes grew dim. Clouds were rising thick and fast about her life; it seemed to her that no ray of light could ever pierce their darkness. She could not stay in the house, it seemed so cold and empty, and she went out, walking almost mechanically from the garden to the high road leading past the house. The road was very pleasant this Autumn evening; great oaks grew on either side, their brown leaves rustling musically overhead. Irene followed it to the grave-yard, and, like one treading an accustomed path, made her way between the grass-grown graves and paused by the side of a new-made mound. "Poor Joe!" she sighed. "Your life so sad, your death so terrible and swift. No home, no friends, no hope on earth! Then why should I mourn for you?" As with soft fingers, the evening air touched her aching eyes, and the evening stillness fell like balm on her aching heart; but on the stillness suddenly fell the sound of horses' feet. She started from the grave. The tramp of hoofs was approaching. What could it mean? Alarmed, she turned to fly. She had caught a glimpse of a horseman in gray uniform, and she had taken but a few swift steps toward her home, when the horseman galloped down the forest path and drew rein at her side. "Stop, Irene, it is I," said a familiar voice, and the rider sprang from the saddle and stood before her. "Oleah!" she exclaimed, in joyous surprise. "How you did frighten me!" "You should not be out at this hour alone," said Oleah. "Where are you going, Irene?" "I am going home," she said. "Well, you need be in no hurry to leave me. It is not often you see me Irene." "Leave you? Cannot you come with me?" her lovely gray eyes full with entreaty. "No," he answered, his head shaking sadly and his lips tremulous with emotion. "When last I was beneath the roof I met an enemy--" "Oleah," she said sadly, "I wish that I had never been taken beneath that roof to bring discord between you and your only brother." "A brother once," he cried bitterly; "a brother once, whom I loved--never loved as brother loved before. But now he has turned that love to hate. He is the enemy of my country, the enemy of my happiness, the destroyer of all my heart holds dear. Brother! Harp no longer on that word. I am not his brother, nor yours. Here, in the face of heaven, I tell you, you must choose. I will not have friendship, or your sisterly affection. Tell me you cannot love me, and I will leave you and my home forever. Tell me! I must and will know my fate now!" "How hard you make it for me!" she cried. "Do you not see, can you not understand, that you ask impossibilities of me?"