“The snow is gone,” I said. “The snowbirds are flying north.”

“The woods will soon be green,” she murmured wistfully. “Ah, if we could ride through them once more, back to Weyanoke” —

“To home,” I said.

“Home,” she echoed softly.

There was a low knocking at the door behind us. “It is Master Rolfe’s signal,” she said. “I must not stay. Tell me that you love me, and let me go.”

I drew her closer to me and pressed my lips upon her bowed head. “Do you not know that I love you?” I asked.

“Yea,” she answered. “I have been taught it. Tell me that you believe that God will be good to us. Tell me that we shall be happy yet; for oh, I have a boding heart this day!”