That evening, long after the sun had set behind the hills, in the same lovely spot where Mabel was wont to watch his parting glories, two youthful forms sat with clasped hands, and pale, tearful faces. The moon rose in all her unclouded beauty, pouring a flood of silvery radiance over the scene; for a moment, the exquisite beauty of Nature sent its wonted light to Mabel’s face: then, with a faint cry of agony, she exclaimed—
“It is the last time, Walter—dear, dear Walter! I shall never again gaze upon this beauty with thee. O, God, who makest the world so lovely, can it be that Thou requirest of me this sacrifice!”
There was no sound for many minutes; but Walter’s head was bowed as if in prayer, and his strong frame shook like a reed.
“God knoweth best, my own beloved,” at length he murmured. “It may be that for me this trial was sent, to teach me the hard lesson—‘Little children, keep yourselves from idols.’ I knew it not, but now I feel that your image reigned in the heart I had offered to my God, and that earth had more share in my thoughts than Heaven.
“But, oh! to part from you, my Mabel—to give you up to others, my treasure, my love, my life! Oh! I cannot submit—my heart is crushed under this bitter trial! Alas! at times I have no trust, no hope, no faith!”
“Say not so, my own, my noble Walter; give up all else, but cling to your faith; forsake not our only strength; think, in this terrible parting, how tenfold would be our anguish, did we not both look forward to that world where there is no more parting, and where ‘God shall wipe all tears from all eyes.’”
“But, O, my beautiful Mabel, sometimes a strange shuddering fear comes over me, that in that gay and gorgeous world where your future steps will wander, you will be so admired, courted, and caressed, that you will cease to yearn for the simple home of your girlhood, cease to love—”
“Nay, Walter, speak not those dreadful words? Say not you doubt the faith, the love, the constancy of years: oh! do not let us add this drop to the bitter cup we are called upon to drink. Ah! if I thought you could _doubt_ me, I should have lost the only happiness that yet remains for me—the thought of your full and perfect trust in my love. Do not let us doubt each other for one moment, Walter dearest; it would be to break the only tie yet left between us, our mutual trust.”