"At the bank. I think he said he would be there all the evening."
"I will return shortly, for I know what the answer will be."
She watches the erect form of her lover as he strides down the road leading into the village.
The shadows deepen in the valley. The opalescent light that hangs over the range fades into the darkening gray. The moon rises in full, round splendor and transforms the river into a silver torrent.
The clanging of the Raymond town clock, as it hammers out the hour of 8, rouses the girl. "Derrick should be here soon," she murmurs. Then she clutches her heart with an exclamation of pain and terror.
It is a swift, sharp spasm, that passes away as quickly as it came, and which leaves the girl for several minutes afterward somewhat dazed. Footsteps echo in the road.
"The result?" eagerly, anxiously queries the girl as Derrick reaches her side.
He must have walked swiftly. He is breathing hard and his face is pale as the moonlight. Or is it the reflection of that light?
"Come away from here, for God's sake!" he exclaims in a harsh, unnatural voice, half-dragging her into the road. "I beg your pardon; I did not mean to be rough," he adds, as the astonished eyes of the girl look into his. "Will you come for a walk, dear?" And as she follows, mechanically, wonderingly, he walks swiftly away from the village.
"I am all out of breath," she protests, after a few moments of the fierce pace he has set. And they stop to rest at a spring beside the road.
"You have quarreled with father," asserts the girl, half questioningly; but Derrick remains silent.
He stops suddenly, and, holding her in his arms, smooths back the dark ringlets from her moist brow. "Helen, darling, do not press me for an answer to-night. Let us be happy in the present. God knows it may not be for long." He presses a passionate kiss upon the girl's unresisting and unresponsive lips, and then lifts
