Felix and Gertrude sat down on the rust-colored carpet of pine-needles and talked of many things.

Felix spoke at last, in the course of talk, of his going away; it was the first time he had alluded to it.
"You are going away ?" said Gertrude, looking at him.
"Some day--when the leaves begin to fall.

You know I can't stay forever." Gertrude transferred her eyes to the outer prospect, and then, after a pause, she said, "I shall never see you again." "Why not ?" asked Felix.

"We shall probably both survive my departure." But Gertrude only repeated, "I shall never see you again.

I shall never hear of you," she went on.