mere sight of her was troubled with a trembling fear and pain. She was
but a stone's-throw in front of him; but she seemed far away. The world
was young around her; and she belonged to the time of youth and of
hope; life, that he had been ready to give up as a useless and aimless
thing, was only opening out before her, full of a thousand beauties, and
wonders, and possibilities. If only he could have taken her hand, and
looked into her eyes, and claimed that smile of welcome, he would have
been nearer to her. Surely, in one thing at least they were in sympathy.
There was a bond between them. If the past had divided them, the future
would bring them more together. Did not the Pilgrims go by in bands,
until death struck down its victims here and there?

Natalie knew nothing of all this vague longing, and doubt, and pain in
the breast of one who was so near her. She was in a gay mood. The
morning was beautiful; the soft wind after the rain brought whiffs of
scent from the distant rose-red hawthorn. Though she was here under
shadow of the trees, the sun beyond shone on the fresh and moist grass;
and at the end of the glades there were glimpses of brilliant color in
the foliage--the glow of the laburnum, the lilac blaze of the
rhododendron bushes. And how still the place was! Far off there was a
dull roar of carriages in Piccadilly; but here there was nothing but the
bleating of the sheep, the chirp of the young birds, the stir of the
wind among the elms. Sometimes he could now catch the sound of her
voice.

She was in a gay humor. When she got to the Serpentine--the north bank
was her favorite promenade; she could see on the other side, just below
the line of leaves, the people passing and repassing on horseback; but
she was not of them--she found a number of urchins wading. They had no
boat; but they had the bung of a barrel, which served, and that they