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he sort of woman by whose vanity every conquest is welcomed as a tribute and pursued as an aim； he could never have cared for her at all。 Thus while his love took its very origin from his belief of her nobility； he was premeditating the means of having her prove to him that this did not exist。
If he told her everything and surprised her love for him； there was the second tragedy。 For over there； beyond the scene of such a confession； he could not behold her as anything else than a fatally lowered woman。 The agony of this； even as a possibil…ity； overwhelmed him in advance。 To require of her that she should have a nature of perfect loyalty and at the same time to ask her to pronounce her own falsenesswhat happiness could that bring to him？ If she could be faithless to one man because she loved another； could she not be false to the second； if in time she grew to love a third？ Out of the depths even of his loss of her the terrible cry was wrung from him that no love could long be possible between him and any woman who was not free to love him。
And so at last； with that mingling of selfish and unselfish motives； which is like the mixed blood of the heart itself； he had chosen the third tragedy： the silence that would at least leave each of them blameless。 And so he had come finally to that high cold table…land where the sun of Love shines rather as the white luminary of another world than the red quickener of this。
Over the lofty table…land of Kentucky the sky bent darkest blue； and was filled with wistful； silvery light that afternoon as he walked out to the Falconers'。 His face had never looked so clear； so calm； his very linen never so spotless； or so careful about his neck and wrists； and his eyes held again their old beautiful lightsaddened。
》From away off he could descry her； walking about the yard in the pale sunshine。 He had expected to find her preoccupied as usual； but to…day she was strolling restlessly to and fro in front of the house； quite near it and quite idle。 When she saw him coming； scarce aware of her own actions； she went round the house and walked on quickly away from him。
As he was following and passing the cabin； a hand was quickly put out and the shutter drawn partly to。
〃How do you do！〃
That hard； smooth； gay little voice！
〃You mustn't come here！ And don't you peep！ When are you going？〃
He told her。
〃To…morrow！ Why； have you forgotten that I'm married to…morrow！ Aren't you coming？ Upon my word！ I've given you to the widow Babcock； and you are to ride in the procession with her。 She has promised me not to laugh once on the way or even to allude to anything cheerful！ Be persuaded！ 。 。 。 Well； I'm sorry。 I'll have to give your place to Peter； I suppose。 And I'll tell the widow she can be natural and gay： Peter'll not mind！ Good…bye！ I can't shake hands with you。〃
Behind the house； at the foot of the sloping hill； there was a spring such as every pioneer sought to have near his home； and a little lower down； in one corner of the yard； the water from this had broadened out into a small pond。 Dark…green sedgy cane grew thick around half the margin。
One March day some seasons before； Major Falconer had brought down with his rifle from out the turquoise sky a young lone…wandering swan。 In those early days the rivers and ponds of the wilderness served as resting places and feeding…grounds for these unnumbered birds in their long flights between the Southern waters and the Northern lakes。 A wing of this one had been broken； and out of her wide heaven of freedom and light she had floated down his captive but with all her far…sweeping instincts throbbing on unabated。 This pool had been the only thing to remind her since of the blue…breasted waves and the glad fellowship of her kind。 On this she had passed her existence； with a cry in the night now and then that no one heard； a lifting of the wings that would never rise； an eye turned upward toward the turquoise sky across which familiar voices called to each other； called down； and were lost in the distance。
As he followed down the hill； she was standing on the edge of the pond； watching the swan feeding in the edge of the cane。 He took her hand without a word； and looked with clear unfaltering eyes down into her face； now swanlike in whiteness。
She withdrew her hand and gave him the gloves which she was holding in the other。
〃I'm glad you thought enough of them to come for them。〃
〃I couldn't come！ Don't blame me！〃
〃I understand！ Only I might have helped you in your trouble。 If a friend can't do thatmay not do that！ But it is too late now！ You start for Virginia tomorrow？〃
〃To…morrow。〃
〃And to…morrow Amy marries； I lose you both the same day！ You are going straight to Mount Vernon？〃
〃Straight to Mount Vernon。〃
〃Ah； to think that you will see Virginia so soon！ I've been recalling a great deal about Virginia during these days when you would not come to see me。 Now I've forgotten everything I meant to say！〃
They climbed the hill slowly。 Two or three times she stopped and pressed her hand over her heart。 She tried to hide the sound of her quivering breath and glanced up once to see whether he were observing。 He was not。 With his old habit of sending his thoughts on into the future； fighting its distant battles； feeling its far…off pain； he was less conscious of their parting than of the years during which he might not see her again。 It is the woman who bursts the whole grape of sorrow against the irrepressible palate at such a moment； to a man like him the same grape distils a vintage of yearning that will brim the cup of memory many a time beside his lamp in the final years。
He would have passed the house； supposing they were to go to the familiar seat in the garden； but a bench had been placed under a forest tree near the door and she led the way to this。 The significance of the action was lost on him。
〃Yes；〃 she continued； returning to a subject which furnished both an escape and a concealment of her feelings； 〃I have been revisiting my girlhood。 You love Kentucky but I cannot make myself over。〃
Her face grew full of the finest memories and all the fibres of her nature were becoming more unstrung。 He had made sure of his strength before he had ever dared see her this day； had pitted his self…control against every possible temptation to betray himself that could arise throughout their parting； and it was this very composure； so unlocked for； that unconsciously drove her to the opposite extreme。 Shades of colour swept over her neck and brow； as though she were setting under wind…tossed blossoming peach boughs。 Her lustrous； excited eyes seemed never able to withdraw themselves from his whitened solemn face。 Its mute repressed suffering touched her； its calmness filled her with vague pain that at such a time he could be so calm。 And the current of her words ran swift； as a stream loosened at last from some steep height。〃Sometime you might be in that part of Virginia。 I should like you to know the country there and the place where my father's house stood。 And when you see the Resident； I wish you would recall my father to him。 And you remember that one of my brothers was a favourite young office