The song ceased; the music died away. Jane moved from the piano with a sob that could no longer be suppressed. Valentine sat still and motionless. As to me, I made a quiet glide of it into the other room, just as Mrs. Cramp and Mrs. Jacob Chandler were coming in for some tea. Julietta seized me on one side and Fanny Letsom on the other; they were going in for forfeits. * * * * * Valentine Chandler left the piano and went out, looking for Jane. Not seeing her, he followed on down the garden path, treading on its dry, dead leaves. The wind, sighing and moaning, played amidst the branches of the trees, nearly bare now; every other minute the moon was obscured by the flying clouds. Warm though the night was, and grand in its aspect, signs might be detected of the approaching winter. Jane Preen was standing near the old garden arbour, from which could be seen by daylight the long chain of the Malvern Hills. Valentine drew Jane within, and seated her by his side. "Our last meeting; our last parting, Jane!" he whispered from the depth of his full heart. "Will it be for ever?" she wailed. He took time to answer. "I would willingly say No; I would _promise_ it to you, Jane, but that I doubt myself. I know that it lies with me; and I know that if God will help me, I may be able to----" He broke down. He could not go on. Jane bent her head towards him. Drawing it to his shoulder, he continued: "I have not been able to pull up here, despite the resolutions I have made from time to time. I was one of a fast set of men at Islip, and--somehow--they were stronger than I was. In Canada it may be different. I promise you, my darling, that I will strive to make it so. Do you think this is no lesson to me?" "If not----" "If not, we may never see each other again in this world." "Oh, Valentine!" "Only in Heaven. The mistakes we make here may be righted there." "And will it be _nothing_ to you, never to see me again here?--no sorrow or pain?" "_No sorrow or pain!_" Valentine echoed the words out of the very depths of woe. Even then the pain within him was almost greater than he could bear. They sat on in silence, with their aching hearts. Words fail in an hour of anguish such as this. An hour that comes perhaps but once in a lifetime; to some of us, never. Jane's face lay nestled against his shoulder; her hand was in his clasp. Val's tears were falling; he was weak yet from his recent illness; Jane's despair was beyond tears. * * * * * We were in the height and swing of forfeits when Valentine and Jane came in. They could not remain in the arbour all night, you see, romantic and lovely though it might be to sit in the moonlight. Jane said she must be going home; her mother had charged her not to be late. When she came down with her things on, I, remembering what she had asked me, took my hat and waited for her in the hall. But Valentine came out with her.