"The slipper, please." "How can you ask so absurd a thing?" and a dainty foot was put out a brief instant before him. "Oh, you little Cinderella! I wish I was the Prince." He saw something like a frown gathering on her face. "Don't look that way," he resumed, "I want to tell you something I've read. I don't remember the words, but the gist is that a woman never forgets a man on whom she has bestowed a great kindness. Already I have twice owed my life to you. You can't forget me. My hope is in what you have done for me, not what I can do for you. I can think of myself lying dead in front of the house, I know I am standing here looking into your true, sweet eyes. Let me look into them a moment, for I have no sister, no mother, no one in the world that I care for like you. Do not think I am making love. I may be dead yet before night. But whether I live or die I want you to remember that there is one human soul that always wishes you well for your OWN sake, that is wholly and unselfishly devoted to your interests and happiness." "There, I'm beginning to cry, and your dinner's getting cold. You must stop talking so." "Give me something to carry into battle this afternoon." She stooped and gathered some wild violets. "There," she said. "You could not have chosen better. Whenever I see violets hereafter they shall be your eyes looking at me as you are looking now." "And--well--you can remember that there is always a little friend in the South who does care. That's a curious thought about a woman's caring for those she has--I don't believe a woman can care for any one and not try to do something for him. Let us just think of ourselves as friends. It seems to me that I never want to think any other way. Now you MUST get your dinner. You may be summoned hastily and have no other chance to-day. After Uncle Lusthah's words last night I'm not going to have any forebodings." "Won't you let me call you Miss Lou once before I go?" "Why not?" "Well, then, Miss Lou, look in my eyes once more and remember what you see there. I won't say a word." She raised hers shyly to his, blushed deeply and turned away, shaking her head. The power to divine what she saw was born with her. "Yes, I understand you," he said very gently, "but you can't help it, any more than the sun's shining. Some day your heart may be cold and sad, and the memory of what you have just seen may warm and cheer it Miss Lou, you brave, noble little child-woman, didn't you see that my love was your servant--that it merely gives you power over me? Even as my wife you would be as free as I would be. Now good-by. We part here and not before others. Chunk is yonder with my horse. Be just as happy as you can whether we ever meet again or not." "Then--then--if you don't come again?" she faltered. "I shall be dead, but don't believe this too hastily."