sat on her wedding-eve, gazing forth into the night. And there came to
Tommy, all-unbidden, a curious, wandering memory of his friend's face on
that same night, with eyes alight and ardent, looking upwards as though
they saw a vision. Perplexed and vaguely troubled, he thrust her letter
away into his pocket and went to his own room.




CHAPTER VI

THE GARDEN


The Heaven of the Orient! It was a week since Stella had penned those
words, and still the charm held her, the wonder grew. Never in her life
had she dreamed of a land so perfect, so subtly alluring, so
overwhelmingly full of enchantment. Day after day slipped by in what
seemed an endless succession. Night followed magic night, and the spell
wound closer and ever closer about her. She sometimes felt as if her
very individuality were being absorbed into the marvellous beauty about
her, as if she had been crystallized by it and must soon cease to be in
any sense a being apart from it.

The siren-music of the torrent that dashed below their camping-ground
filled her brain day and night. It seemed to make active thought
impossible, to dull all her senses save the one luxurious sense of
enjoyment. That was always present, slumbrous, almost cloying in its
unfailing sweetness, the fruit of the lotus which assuredly she was
eating day by day. All her nerves seemed dormant, all her energies