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"But he's not looking, and oh, Cleone,--how can I bear to leave you

so soon? You areelse in the world You are

my life, my soul,--my honor,--oh my dear!"

"Do you--love me so very much, Barnabas?" said she, with a sudden

catch in her voice

"And always must! Oh my dear, my dear,--don't you know? But indeed,

words are so sreat that I fear you can never

quite guess, or I tell it all"

"Then, Barnabas,--you will go?"

"Must I, Cleone? It will be so very hard to lose you--so soon"

"But a man always chooses the harder course, doesn't he, Barnabas?

And, dear, you cannot lose o--because I love you!"

Then Cleone drew him deeper into the shade of the s, and with

a sudden, swift gesture, reached up her hands and set them about his

neck

"Oh uess--now And I'm sure--the boy--can't see us--here!"

No, surely, neither this particular brook nor any other water-brook,

strea the

reeds, could ever hope to catch all the thrilling tenderness of the

sweet soft tones of Cleone's voice

A brook indeed? Ridiculous!