"Letters!" cried Gorgo, drawing away her hand. "Well, you are a tardy
messenger! Our houses are within a stone's throw, and yet in a whole
day, from noon till noon, so old a friend could not find a few minutes
to deliver the letters entrusted to him, or to call upon such near
neighbors . . ."

"First there were my parents," interrupted the young soldier.
"And then the tyrant military duty, which kept me on the stretch from
yesterday afternoon till an hour or two since. Romanus robbed me even of
my sleep, and kept me in attendance till the morn had set. However,
I lost but little by that, for I could not have closed my eyes till they
had beheld you! This morning again I was on duty, and rarely have I
ridden to the front with such reluctance. After that I was delayed by
various details; even on my way here--but for that I cannot be sorry for
it gave me this chance of finding you alone. All I ask now is that we
may remain so, for such a moment is not likely to be repeated.--There,
I heard a door . . ."

"Come into the garden," cried Gorgo, signing to him to follow her.
"My heart is as full as yours. Down by the tank under the old sycamores
--we shall be quietest there."

Under the dense shade of the centenarian trees was a rough-hewn bench
that they themselves had made years before; there Gorgo seated herself,
but her companion remained standing.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "Here--here you must hear me! Here where we have
been so happy together!"

"So happy!" she echoed softly,