172
ON MEMORY.
The course of love, however, seems not to have run smoothly, for, later on, he takes more walking exercise and less sleep, poor boy, than is good for him; and his face is suggestive of anything but wedding bells and happiness ever after.
And here he seems to vanish. The little, boyish self that has grown up beside me as we walked, is gone.
I am alone, and the road is very dark. I stumble on, I know not how nor care, for the way seems leading nowhere, and there is no light to guide.
But at last the morning comes, and I find that I have grown into myself.
