All Nature was rejoicing in the delight of the sunshine; all Nature was rejoicing, and his heart alone was heavy as lead. He stood by a fir-tree, which rose far above the others, immensely tall, like the mast of a solitary ship; it was straight as a life without reproach, but cheerless, cold, and silent. His life, too, was without reproach, thought James--without reproach till now.... He had loved Mary Clibborn. But was it love, or was it merely affection, habit, esteem? She was the only girl he knew, and they had grown up together. When he came from school for his holidays, or later from Sandhurst, on leave, Mary was his constant friend, without whom he would have been miserably dull. She was masculine enough to enter into his boyish games, and even their thoughts were common. There were so few people in Little Primpton that those who lived there saw one another continually; and though Tunbridge Wells was only four miles away, the distance effectually prevented very close intimacy with its inhabitants. It was natural, then, that James should only look forward to an existence in which Mary took part; without that pleasant companionship the road seemed long and dreary. When he was appointed to a regiment in India, and his heart softened at the prospect of the first long parting from all he cared for, it was the separation from Mary that seemed hardest to bear. "I don't know what I shall do without you, Mary," he said. "You will forget all about us when you've been in India a month." But her lips twitched, and he noticed that she found difficulty in speaking quite firmly. She hesitated a moment, and spoke again. "It's different for us," she said, "Those who go forget, but those who stay--remember. We shall be always doing the same things to remind us of you. Oh, you won't forget me, Jamie?" The last words slipped out against the girl's intention. "Mary!" he cried. And then he put his arms round her, and Mary rested her face on his shoulder and began to cry. He kissed her, trying to stop her tears; he pressed her to his heart. He really thought he loved her then with all his strength. "Mary," he whispered, "Mary, do you care for me? Will you marry me?" Then quickly he explained that it would make it so much better for both if they became engaged. "I shan't be able to marry you for a long time; but will you wait for me, Mary?" She began to smile through her tears. "I would wait for you to the end of my life."