Towards the close of the afternoon, Ellin went in her restlessness to pay a visit to her friend Grace at the Rectory, who had recently become Herbert Tanerton's wife, and sat talking with her till it was pretty late. The moon, rising over the tops of the trees, caused her to start up with an exclamation. "What will Aunt Hester say?" "If you don't mind going through the churchyard, Ellin," said Grace, "you would cut off that corner, and save a little time." So Ellin took that route. "Ellin!" "William!" They had met face to face under the church walls. He explained that he was sparing a few minutes to say farewell to his friends at the Rectory. The moon, coming out from behind a swiftly passing cloud, for it was rather a rough night, shone down upon them and upon the graves around them. Wildly enough beat the heart of each. "You saw papa to-day," she whispered unevenly, as though her breath were short. "Yes, I saw him. I cannot say that he gave me hope, Ellin, but he certainly did not wholly deny it. I think--I believe--that--if I can succeed in getting on, all may be well with us yet." William Brook spoke with hesitation. He felt trammelled; he could not in honour say what he would have wished to say. This meeting might be unorthodox, but it was purely accidental; neither he nor Ellin had sought it. "Good-bye, my darling," he said with emotion, clasping her hands in his. "As we have met, there cannot be much wrong in our saying it. I may not write to you, Ellin; I may not even ask you to think of me; I may not, I suppose, tell you in so many words that I shall think of you; but, believe this: I go out with one sole aim and end in view--that of striving to make a position sufficiently fair to satisfy your father." The tears were coursing down her cheeks; she could hardly speak for agitation. Their hearts were aching to pain. "I will be true to you always, William," she whispered. "I will wait for you, though it be to the end of life." To be in love with a charming young lady, and to have her all to yourself in a solitary graveyard under the light of the moon, presents an irresistible temptation for taking a kiss, especially if the kiss is to be a farewell kiss for days and for years. William Brook did not resist it; very likely did not try to. In spite of Mr. Delorane and every one else, he took his farewell kiss from Ellin's lips. Then they parted, he going one way, she the other. Only those of us--there are not many--who have gone through this parting agony can know how it wrings the heart. But sundry superstitious gossips, hearing of this afterwards, assured Ellin that it must be unlucky to say farewell amidst graves. * * * * *