CHAPTER I


The clock in the tower of the village church had just struck the
quarter. In the southeast a pale dawn light was beginning to show above
the curving hollow of the down wherein the village lay enfolded; but the
face of the down itself was still in darkness. Farther to the south, in
a stretch of clear night sky hardly touched by the mounting dawn, Venus
shone enthroned, so large and brilliant, so near to earth and the
spectator, that she held, she pervaded the whole dusky scene, the
shadowed fields and wintry woods, as though she were their very soul
and voice.

"The Star of Bethlehem!--and Christmas Day!"

Diana Mallory had just drawn back the curtain of her bedroom. Her voice,
as she murmured the words, was full of a joyous delight; eagerness and
yearning expressed themselves in her bending attitude, her parted lips
and eyes intent upon the star.

The panelled room behind her was dimly lit by a solitary candle, just
kindled. The faint dawn in front, the flickering candle-light behind,
illumined Diana's tall figure, wrapped in a white dressing-gown, her
small head and slender neck, the tumbling masses of her dark hair, and
the hand holding the curtain. It was a kind and poetic light; but her
youth and grace needed no softening.