“Not one.” The young man was resting his head upon his hand and gazing steadily at the girl. “Do you remember, Helen--?” He stopped; and she turned with her bright clear eyes and gazed into his. “Remember what?” she asked. “Do you remember the last time we took it, Helen?” She flushed a trifle, and half involuntarily turned her glance away again. “Do you remember?” he asked again, seeing that she was silent. “Yes, I remember,” said the girl, her voice lower--“But I'd rather you did not--.” She stopped short. “You wish to forget it, Helen?” asked Arthur. He was trembling with anxiety, and his hands, which were clasped about his knee, were twitching. “Oh, Helen, how can you?” he went on, his voice breaking. “Do you not remember the last night that we sat there by the spring, and you were going away, no one knew for how long--and how you told me that it was more than you could bear; and the promise that you made me? Oh, Helen!” The girl gazed at him with a frightened look; he had sunk down upon his knee before her, and he caught her hand which lay upon the log at her side. “Helen!” he cried, “you cannot mean to forget that? For that promise has been the one joy of my life, that for which I have labored so hard! My one hope, Helen! I came to-day to claim it, to tell you--” And with a wild glance about her, the girl sprang to her feet, snatching her hand away from his. “Arthur!” she cried; “Arthur, you must not speak to me so!” “I must not, Helen?” “No, no,” she cried, trembling; “we were only children, and we did not know the meaning of the words we used. You must not talk to me that way, Arthur.” “Helen!” he protested, helplessly. “No, no, I will not allow it!” she cried more vehemently, stepping back as he started towards her, and holding close to her the hand he had held. “I had no idea there was such a thought in your mind--” Helen stopped, breathlessly. “--or you would not have been so kind to me?” the other added faintly. “I thought of you as an old friend,” said Helen. “I was but a child when I went away. I wish you still to be a friend, Arthur; but you must not act in that way.” The young man glanced once at her, and when he saw the stern look upon her face he buried his head in his arms without a sound. For fully a minute they remained thus, in silence; then as Helen watched him, her chest ceased gradually to heave, and a gentler look returned to her face. She came and sat down on the log again. “Arthur,” she said after another silence, “can we not just be friends?” The young man answered nothing, but he raised his head and gazed at her; and she saw that there were tears in his eyes, and a look of mute helplessness upon his face. She trembled slightly, and rose to her feet again. “Arthur,” she said gravely, “this must not be; we must not sit here any longer. I must go.” “Helen!” exclaimed the other, springing up.