came, she had only just caught the train as it was; if she had not got the telegram before eleven o’clock she would have been safe.  But all that was past now, Lady Asher had died before she arrived.  It were better that she had died—­anything were better rather than that scene should have taken place; for she could not have promised to marry Owen.  What would she have done?  Refused while looking into her dying eyes, or run out of the room?

“You don’t answer me, Evelyn.”

“Owen, don’t press me.  Enough has been said on that subject.  This is no time to discuss such questions.”

“But it is Evelyn—­it was her dearest wish....  Is it then impossible?  Have you entirely ceased to care?”

“No, Owen, I’m very fond of you.  But you don’t really want to marry me, it is because your mother wished it.”

His face changed expression, and she knew that he was not certain on the point himself.

“Yes, Evelyn, I do, indeed I do;” and convinced for the moment that what he said was true, he took her hands, and looking at her he added, “It was her wish, and if what you believe be true, she is listening now from behind that blue sky.”

Both were trembling, and while the swans floated by, they considered the depth of blue contained in the sky.  He was taken with a little dread, and was surprised to find in himself a vague, haunting belief in the possibility of an after life.  Suddenly his self-consciousness fell from him, was merged in his instinct of the woman.

“Evelyn, if I don’t marry you I shall lose you.  I cannot lose you, that would be to lose everything.  I don’t ask any questions, whether you like Ulick Dean, nor even what your relations are.  I only want to know if you will marry me.”

He read in her eyes that the tale of their love was ended, and heard his future life ring hollow.  It seemed strange that at such a moment the serene swans should float about them, that the water-fowl should move in and out of the reeds, and that the green park and the cloudless sky were like painted paper.

“Then everything is over, everything I had to live for, all is a blank.  But when you sent me away before, you had to take me back; you’re not a woman who can live without a lover.”

“It is difficult, I know.”

“What has come between us, tell me?  This fellow Ulick Dean or religious scruples?”

“I have no right to talk about religious scruples.”

“Then it is this man.  You love him, you’ve ceased to care for me, and you ask me to barter my right to kiss you, to take you in my arms, so that I may remain your friend.”  “Why, Evelyn, have you got tired of me?”

“But I have not got tired of you, Owen.  I am very fond of you.”

“Yes, but you don’t care any more for me to make love to you.”

“Of course it is not the same as it was in the beginning, but there is affection.”

“When passion is dead, all is dead, the rest is nothing.”