along the Marsden road. They had, so to say, appropriated each other,
and yet there had been no word of love between them. They had spoken
freely to each other; their hands had touched, and both had thrilled at
the contact, and yet they were only friends! The village had settled it
that they were lovers and that they would be married, and felt satisfied
with its own decision, because both were popular.

It was a summer afternoon, and they were in the woods together. Minnie
had a basket for wild strawberries. None had been gathered. They were
seated at the trunk of a tree. Donald had told her that he thought of
leaving the country, and she felt stunned. Her heart stopped. She became
as pale as death.

"Yes, Minnie," he said, "I am tired of this life. I want away. I want to
push my fortune. What is there here for me? What future is there for me?
I want to go to the States. I can get along there. This life is too dull
and narrow, and all the young fellows have left."

"Perhaps I feel too that it is a little dull, Donald," Minnie said, "but
not being a man, I suppose desires like yours would seem improper When
you go," and her voice trembled a little, "I will feel the dullness all
the more keenly."

"And do you think it will not cost me an effort to sever our
friendship?" Donald said with emotion; "we have been playmates in
childhood and friends in riper years. I have been so accustomed to you
that to leave you will seem like moving into darkness out of sunlight.
Minnie," he went on, taking her hand, and speaking with fervor, "can
we only be friends? We say that we are friends; but in my heart I have
always loved you. When I began to love you I know not. I feel now that I