about Destiny, that strange power that moves us about at will, like
chessmen, and who, laying her hand upon us, makes our ways cross and
intertwine themselves to work out her purposes; she only knew that in
some way she was changing, and that her heart had gone out in a great
flood of affection for Veronica Lehar.

Her very dreams, too, were filled with this strange new unrest, and she
was continually wakeful at night--she who in former days fell asleep
the instant her head touched the pillow, and enjoyed eight hours'
dreamless slumber as regularly as clock-work.

It was the same again to-night. After several hours of fitful dreaming,
Sahwah wakened, and in her half-consciousness there lingered an
impression of eyes staring intently at her and a dream of being back in
the railway train on the way to Nyoda's. The spell of the dream left her
and she lay awake a long time, unaccountably happy, mysteriously sad,
and with no desire to sleep.

Through the wide open window the moon poured in the fullness of its late
glory and by and by Sahwah slipped from her bed and went over to the
window, and, leaning her arms on the sill, sat looking out on the magic
world. Below her the garden lay bathed in silver, with intense velvety
black shadows, with only the faintest sigh of a breeze stirring the
leaves. Far across in the valley she could see the roofs of the town
shining white in the moonlight, and they seemed to be part of a magic
city in which she now dwelt, far more real than the daytime town of
familiar things. For a long time she leaned out over the sill, rapt and
dreaming, unconscious of time, forgetful of the companions of her days,
intoxicated by the moonlight until her blood raced madly through her
veins and she was filled with an intense desire to go out and dance in