Gilbert’s parents missed his merry laugh and Jest; marvelled at his absence; feared that He was ill and questioned him. He told them He was hunting in the mountains, but he Mentioned not the object of his quest; misled Them by tales of condor’s nest and mountain Lion he had seen. Likewise was Cedric Troubled by the change he saw in Zola. She loved Gilbert--loved him wildly, madly. She had watched him when he knew it not, and Knew that he loved her; but frightened at the Thought, was minded to keep the secret Locked in her own breast and fly from him; so Timidly she asked if some day they might Go away, and sailing o’er the ocean Find another home. Cedric answered, “Yes, Some day.” He had long expected this and Unknown to her, had in a way, prepared Her for the change. From that lone mountain top Letters had been sent to shops and houses Of the east, and yearly in return had Come by Indian carriers from the port Clothing for himself and Zola, made to Measure sent, and always in their study Hours they dressed resplendently, that she might Grace a drawing-room and feel at ease--not Show that she in wilderness was reared. She had mastered music and languages In travel needed most, and was withal A finished scholar. Not for himself but Her, he feared to take her hence--knew full well That one so beautiful would soon be wooed, And he had never told her of the cloud That hung around her birth--the cloud of Mystery. As for himself, he loved her All the better for it--she blameless--he In tenderness postponed the hour; but the Longer left undone, he dreading knew that One day it must come; in honor must he Speak--must tell her, though it break her heart, to Know that he was not her father. Often Did he wish that in her childhood had he Told her all. Yet, in his weakness, promised Her that some day they would go: “Yes; some day.”