Bertha," said he, "but if, at the end of five or
six years your hand is still free, and I return
another man--a man to whom you could safely
intrust your happiness--would you then listen
to what I may have to say to you? For I promise,
by all that we both hold sacred--"

"No, no," interrupted she, hastily. "Promise
nothing. It would be unjust to--yourself, and
perhaps also to me; for a sacred promise is a
terrible thing, Ralph. Let us both remain free;
and, if you return and still love me, then come,
and I shall receive you and listen to you. And
even if you have outgrown your love, which is,
indeed, more probable, come still to visit me
wherever I may be, and we shall meet as friends
and rejoice in the meeting."

"You know best," he murmured. "Let it be
as you have said."

He arose, took her face between his hands,
gazed long and tenderly into her eyes, pressed
a kiss upon her forehead, and hastened away.

That night Ralph boarded the steamer for Hull,
and three weeks later landed in New York.


IV.