It was a perfect day: bland and sunny, and redolent of summer fragrance and peace. An early shower had fallen, and the raindrops sparkled on the grass, while the sheep straggled on the hillside, and the fitful breeze dispersed the sweetness of the land. A circling lark, lost in the blue, rained down its music, and the grey rabbits scuttled into their burrows at the approach of the lovers--for lovers they were, though their love was undeclared. Side by side they walked on--scarcely speaking, scarcely looking. They were alone on the lonely downs under the roof of God's sky, standing on the variegated pavement of God's temple, the strongest passion Nature knows gripping them at their heart-strings. At first their conversation--such as it was--turned on trivial things. They skirted, as it were, the sole thought which filled the hearts of both. But their joint attempt to evade it was doomed to failure. Nature would have her own, and she seized it by force. Their idle talk dwindled into monosyllables; even these grew rare and low, and then a long silence ensued. Mallow felt his mouth dry and his heart beating furiously. He turned his eyes, eloquent with unspoken passion, on the woman by his side. With a thrill, half of joy, half of fear, she winced and shrank back. "Don't!" she said faintly, holding up her hand, "I beg of----" "I must," said Mallow, hoarsely, as her voice died on her lips. "Olive, darling, what is the use of our keeping up this pretence? I--I--I love you." "I must--I will!" He seized her hand and fixed his eyes on her flushed, downcast face. "I love you; you love me--we are for each other. You cannot deny that what I say is true. I can see the truth in your face, in your eyes. Olive, Olive,--my Olive!" "Laurence--Mr. Mallow; you forget my position." "I do not. You are engaged to a man for whom you do not care, whom you shall not marry. I forbid you to marry this Carson." "You have no right----" "I have every right--the right of love. Deny it if you can. If you go to the altar with Carson you go with a lie on your lips. You are mine, mine only; and I swear to God that I will not give you up. Dearest, tell me what is in your heart. Do not deny me one little word. You love me--you love me; say that you love me." The overwhelming force of his passion swept her away. She could no longer struggle against him--against herself. "I do love you," she faltered; then, with a sudden revulsion of feeling, she tore herself away from him, and shrank back, covering her face with her hands. "I knew it!" he cried in triumph. "You love me, you are mine, you will not marry this man." "I must, I must," she murmured, terrified by the way in which she felt he was breaking down the barriers of her will. "You must not. I tell you, Olive, you shall not. I am you lover, your master, your husband--not that feeble foolish Jack-o'-dandy, with his silly smile and feeble will. Give him up, give him up; I command you, give him up."