"One can see," went on my lord, "all that that future shall be. They have told their love to one another, soon that love will blossom into marriage, even as I have seen your daturas and your roses blossom forth since first I came amongst you--that marriage will bring happiness of days and years to them, in which in honour and peaceful joys they will go on until life's close. Happy, happy pair--happy Kinchella to love and be beloved, to love and dare to tell his love." And my lord sighed as he spoke. "All men may tell their love, surely," I said. "Why should they not?" "All men may not tell their love, Mistress Joice," he replied; "all men may not ask for love in return. Over some men's lives there is so deep a shadow that it precludes them from asking any woman to share their lot--sometimes it is best that those men go through life alone, unloved and with no other's lot bound up with theirs. But, hark, she is going to sing that song he wrote for her." Through the warm air Mary's voice arose as he stood by her; through the quiet of the night when nought was heard but the distant barking of the dogs, which were strangely restless this evening, and nought seen but the fireflies, she sang his little song: "If we should part--some day of days We might stand face to face again, And, dear, my eyes I scarce could raise To yours without a bitter pain. For memory then must backward turn To all the love that went before, While thoughts our hearts would sear and burn Making our meeting still more sore. So shall we part? Ah. No, Love, no. Or shall we stay and still be true, Shall one remain--the other go, Or shall I still rest close to you? "If we should part--could I rejoice If by some chance I saw your face? Or if you, too, should hear my voice Cold and without one plea for grace. Such as in days agone I sought Craving one whispered word from you; Would not your heart with grief be fraught Recalling all the love we slew. So shall we part? Ah. No, Love, no. Or shall we stay and still be true, Shall one remain--the other go, Or shall I still rest close to you? "Ah! best it is we never part, Better by far that we keep true, Clasp hand to hand, bind heart to heart, As in the past we used to do. So murmur, sweet, the words once more, Breathe them to me again, again, Whisper you love me as before, Proclaim Love's victory over pain. And we'll not part. Ah. No, Love, no. 'Tis best to stay for ever true. Since you remain, I cannot go, But ever must rest close to you."