She saw him come down-stairs with his small hand-bag, which he set down.  His face was white.  His eyes burned.  But her woman’s love made her divine that this was not a shock to his soul, as it was to hers, but stimulation—­a man’s strange spiritual accounting to his fellow-men.

He went first into the dining-room, and Lenore heard her mother’s and sisters’ voices in reply to his.  Presently he came out to enter her father’s study.  Lenore listened, but heard no sound there.  Outside, a motor-car creaked and hummed by the window, to stop by the side porch.  Then the door of her father’s study opened and closed, and Dorn came to where she was standing.

Lenore did precisely as she had done a few nights before, when she had changed the world for him.  But, following her kiss, there was a terrible instant when, with her arms around his neck, she went blind at the realization of loss.  She held to him with a savage intensity of possession.  It was like giving up life.  She knew then, as never before, that she had the power to keep him at her side.  But a thought saved her from exerting it—­the thought that she could not make him less than other men—­and so she conquered.

“Lenore, I want you to think always—­how you loved me,” he said.

“Loved you?  Oh, my boy!  It seems your lot has been hard.  You’ve toiled—­you’ve lost all—­and now...”

“Listen,” he interrupted, and she had never heard his voice like that.  “The thousands of boys who go to fight regard it a duty.  For our country!...  I had that, but more....  My father was German... and he was a traitor.  The horror for me is that I hate what is German in me....  I will have to kill that.  But you’ve helped me....  I know I’m American.  I’ll do my duty, whatever it is.  I would have gone to war only a beast with my soul killed before I ever got there....  With no hope—­no possibility of return!...  But you love me!...  Can’t you see—­how great the difference?”

Lenore understood and felt it in his happiness.  “Yes, Kurt, I know....  Thank God, I’ve helped you....  I want you to go.  I’ll pray always.  I believe you will come back to me....  Life could not be so utterly cruel...”  She broke off.

“Life can’t rob me now—­nor death,” he cried, in exaltation.  “I have your love.  Your face will always be with me—­as now—­lovely and brave!...  Not a tear!...  And only that sweet smile like an angel’s!...  Oh, Lenore, what a girl you are!”

“Say good-by—­and go,” she faltered.  Another moment would see her weaken.

“Yes, I must hurry.”  His voice was a whisper—­almost gone.  He drew a deep breath.  “Lenore—­my promised wife—­my star for all the black nights—­God bless you—­keep you!...  Good-by!”

She spent all her strength in her embrace, all her soul in the passion of her farewell kiss.  Then she stood alone, tottering, sinking.  The swift steps, now heavy and uneven, passed out of the hall—­the door closed—­the motor-car creaked and rolled away—­the droning hum ceased.