"It was best, my little one, best for each of us. I was constantly planning how I might bring this about when the right time came. That time has come, and as my little girl, whom I have loved as deeply as any one in the future can ever love her, and whom I have cherished and helped to the extent of my limited power, goes forth into this new life, I can and will rejoice in the joy, the love and the happiness that will be hers. And I know that amid new scenes, new friends and new loves, she will never quite forget the old friend and the old love." "Never, Jack; I could never forget you, and Everard and Morton will never forget you. They are coming to see you to-night. Dear Jack, why could you not give up this lonely life, and go with us to the east? We would all love you and make you one of us, and our home would be yours." "My dear child," he replied with a slight shudder, "you know not what you ask. I know the love that prompted it, but never ask it again." "Very well," said Lyle, with a sorrowful submission, "but I know what I can do." And she put her arms about his neck. "I will come out to the mountains and visit you here." Then, as he remained silent, she queried: "You would be here, wouldn't you, Jack, where I could find you?" Oh, the agony which his strong, loving heart endured! How could he tell her that even then he never expected to look upon her face again! He could not. He only said: "I cannot tell, dear, my life is an erratic and wandering one. No one, not even I, can say where I may be." "But you have not lived a wandering life lately; you have lived here for many years." "Because the lodestone, the magnet of my heart was here," he answered half-playfully, half-tenderly. "When that is gone, I shall be likely to fly off in a tangent again." "Oh, Jack, you must not talk so. I want to see you in the years to come. I must and I will. I feel it," she added brightly. For answer, Jack, for the first time, placed his arms about her, and for a moment folded her closely to his breast. Then, bending his head, he kissed her reverently, first on the forehead, then on the lips, saying, "God bless you always, my dear child!" She returned the kiss, and as he released her, she whispered: "Good-night, dear Jack!" "Good-night, my dear," he answered, adding under his breath, "and good-bye!" After she had gone, he sat in the gathering darkness alone, lost in thought. The collie, returning from attending Lyle on her homeward walk, divined, with keen, unerring instinct, the sorrow in his master's heart, and coming close, laid his head upon his knee, in mute sympathy and affection. His master stroked the noble head, but his thoughts were far away, and he was only aroused at length by the sound of voices, as Everard Houston and Morton Rutherford entered the cabin. The moon had now risen, and the little room in which he sat was filled with a soft, silver radiance.