You would make a woman happy;--all her life she would travel a sunny
road! I prize your friendship--I am loth to lose it. But as for
me,"--she locked her hands against her breast,--"there is that within me
that cries, _The shadowed road!--the shadowed road!"_

She rose, and Cary rose with her. "Forgive me," she said. "Is it not
cruel that we hurt each other so? Forgive--forget."

"I would forgive you," he answered, with emotion, "the suffering and the
sorrow of a thousand lives. But forget you--never! I'll love you well
and I'll love you long. Nor will I despair. To-night is dark, but the
sun may shine to-morrow. Think of me as of one who will love you to the
end." He took her hand and kissed it, then stood aside, saying, "I will
not face the lights quite yet." She passed into the hail and up the
stairway, and he turned and went down the porch steps into the May
night.




CHAPTER IX

EXPOSTULATION


The next morning Ludwell Cary rose early, ordered his horse, and opened
the door of his brother's room. "Fair," he said, as the younger Cary sat
up in bed, with a nightcap wonderfully askew upon his handsome head, "I
am off for Greenwood. Make my excuses, will you, to Colonel Churchill
and the ladies? I will not be back till supper-time." He turned to leave