I recall the scene as if it were yesterday, the very softness in her face, the delicacy of her contour; the movement of her soft hair on her blue-veined white temple and her round neck as a gentle breath of air stirred it; the dreamy depths of her eyes as the smile faded in them and she relapsed into a reverie. An impulse seized me and I cast prudence, wisdom, reason, all to the winds and gave the rein to my heart. "Come here." I took her arm and drew her a few steps beyond to where there was a vacant house. "Sit down here a moment." I spread my handkerchief on the dusty steps, and she sat down, smiling after her little outbreak. Leaning over her, I took hold of her hand and lifted it to my breast, clasping it very tight. "Look at me--" She had already looked in vague wonder, her eyes wide open, beginning the question which her lips were parting to frame. "Don't say that to me--that about your belief in me--unless you mean it all--all. I love you and I mean to succeed for you--with you. I mean to marry you--some day." The look in her eyes changed, but for a second they did not leave my face. My eyes were holding them. "Oh!--What?" she gasped, while her hand went up to her throat. Then she firmly, but as I afterward recalled, slowly withdrew her hand from my grasp, which made no attempt to detain it. "Are you crazy?" she gasped. And I truly believe she thought I was. "Yes--no--I don't know. If I am, my insanity begins and ends only in you. I know only one thing--that I love you and that some day--some day, I am going to marry you, though the whole world and yourself oppose me." She stood up. "But, oh! why did you say that?" "Because it is true." "We were such good friends." "We never were--I never was--for a moment." "You were." "Never." "We were just beginning to understand each other, to be such good friends, and now you have ended it all." "That cannot be ended which never had a beginning. I don't want your friendship; I want your love and I will have it." "No, I cannot. Oh! why did you? I must be going." "Why? Sit down." "No, I cannot. Good-by." "Good-by." She hesitated, and then without looking, held out her hand. "Good-by." I took her hand and this time kissed it, as I remember, almost fiercely. She tried to stop me, but I held it firmly. "You must not do that; you have no right." She was standing very straight now. "I took the right." "Promise me you will never say that again." "What?" "What you said at first." "I don't know what you mean. I have been saying the same thing all the time--ever since I knew you--ever since I was born--that I love you." "You must never say that again--promise me before I go." "I promise you," I said slowly, "that I will say it as long as I live." She appeared to let herself drift for a half second, then she gave a little catch at herself. "No, really, you must not--I cannot allow you. I have no right to let you. I must go, and if you are a friend of mine, you will never----"