As they entered, the Christchild, running up to the hearth, pointed to
the chimney piece, and then turning to Crescimir with a look which could
not be misunderstood, began in his odd notes to sing.

Crescimir then first noticed that there was no hemlock branch above the
hearth, so taking one from the other side of the room where they hung in
festoons, he fastened it with a bunch of toyone berries over the
chimney piece.

The sun was set and in the crimson glow with which the heavens were
painted, just above the low, black hills, shone bright and silvery the
Evening Star.

Crescimir, with Jovita leaning on his shoulder, stood at the west window
looking out over the misty valley where the real seemed ghostlike in the
gray evening haze, and even those things with which they were familiar,
seemed in the fading light to take to themselves unknown forms.

"Strange world!" said Jovita, meditatively, "Real and Unreal so often
blended that we can never say which is tangible and which is air."

"Look Jovita, look!" and Crescimir seizing her hand pointed out toward
the garden.

They stood there gazing from the window, as if spellbound, until the
crimson light faded from the sky and the clear star descended below the
hills.

A bit of mist or fog, or what you will hovered about the garden and then