“That is very good of you, dear.  I shall be glad to have him for your sake.”

“Well, keep him, love, he is a good dog; he will quite have transferred his allegiance by the time I come back.  I hope you won’t have done the same, Angela.”

“Oh, Arthur, why will you so often make me angry by saying such things?  The sun will forget to shine before I forget you.”

“Hush, love, I did not mean it,” and he took her in his arms.  And so they sat there together under the oak where first they had met, hand in hand and heart to heart, and it was at this moment that the self-reliant strength, and more beautiful serenity of Angela’s character as compared with her lover’s came into visible play.  For whilst, as the moment of separation drew nigh, he could scarcely contain his grief, she on the other hand grew more and more calm, strengthening his weakness with her quiet power; and bidding him seek consolation in his trouble at the hands of Him who for His own purposes decreed it.

“Dearest,” she said, in answer to his complainings, “there are so many things in the world that we cannot understand, and yet they must be right and lead to a good end.  What may happen to us before this year is out, of course we cannot say, but I feel that all love is immortal, and that there is a perfect life awaiting us, if not in this world, then in the next.  Remember, dear, that these few years are, after all, but as a breath to the general air, or as that dew-drop to the waters of the lake, when compared with the future that awaits us there, and that until we attain that future we cannot really know each other, or the true meaning and purpose of our love.  So look forward to it without fear, dear heart, and if it should chance that I should pass out of your life, or that other ties should spring up round you that shall forbid the outward expression of our love——­” Here Arthur started and was about to interrupt, but she stopped him.  “Do not start, Arthur.  Who can read the future?  Stranger things have happened, and if, I say, such a thing should come about in our case, then remember, I implore you, that in that future lies the answer to the puzzles of the world, and turn your eyes to it, as to the horizon beyond which you will find me waiting for you, and not only me, but all that you have ever loved.  Only, dear, try to be a good man and love me always.”

He looked at her in wonder.

“Angela,” he said, “what has made you so different from other women?  With all whom I have known, love is an affair of passion or amusement, of the world and the day, but yours gazes towards Heaven, and looks to find its real utterance in the stillness of Eternity!  To be loved by you, my dear, would be worth a century of sorrows.”

At last the moment came, as all moments good and bad must come.  To Pigott, who was crying, he gave a hug and a five-pound note, to Aleck, a pat on the head, to Philip, who could not look him in the face, a shake of the hand, and to Angela, who bravely smiled into his eyes—­a long last kiss.