But she lifted her face, and their lips met and clung, as though parting must be forever.

Amid the closely gathering shadows he led her back to the vacated stool, and stood beside her, gently stroking the soft dark hair of the bowed head.
"You have plans ?" he questioned quietly.

"You have decided how you are to live while we await each other ?" "Yes," half timidly, as though fearful he might oppose her decision.
"I believe I had better return to my work upon the stage." She glanced up at him anxiously.

"You do not care, do you?
It seems to me I am best fitted for that; I have ambition to succeed, and--and it affords me something worthy to think about." "I recall you said once it would be a poor love which should interfere with the ideals of another." "Yes, I remember.

How long ago that seems, and what a change has since come over my conceptions of the power of love! I believe it still, yet in so different a way.