discern. Once he had gazed at it when its song seemed to be of the green
banks and flowers it had passed by; but that had been on a fairer
occasion; at the close of a joyous, spring day. How it came back to him;
the solemn court of justice, the beautiful face, an open doorway, with
the sunshine golden without and a figure that, ere passing into it, had
turned to look back! It was but for an instant, yet again his gaze
seemed to leap to that luring light, the passing gleam of her eyes, that
had lingered--

That he saw now! or was it a dream? At the threshold near-by, some one
looked out; some one as fair, fairer, if that could be, whose cheeks
wore the tint of the wild rose.

"Pardon me; I came up to see if my uncle--"

He stared at her, at the beautiful, tremulous lips, the sheen of her
hair--

"You!--"

"Yes." She raised a small, gloved hand and swept back a disordered
tress.

"Your--your uncle has just gone," he said.

"I know."

"You do?" He knew it was no dream, that the fever had not returned, that
she really stood there. Yet it seemed inexplicable.