laugh in mockery. I can never tell you. I can only dream of
telling you. In my dream you are standing here by me, dear. I
can see you very plainly, my sweet lady, so tall and gracious,
with your dark hair and your maiden eyes. I can dream that I tell
you my love; that--maddest, sweetest dream of all--that you love
me in return. Everything is possible in dreams, you know, dear.
My dreams are all I have, so I go far in them, even to dreaming
that you are my wife. I dream how I shall fix up my dull old
house for you. One room will need nothing more--it is your room,
dear, and has been ready for you a long time--long before that day
I saw you under the pine. Your books and your chair and your
picture are there, dear--only the picture is not half lovely
enough. But the other rooms of the house must be made to bloom
out freshly for you. What a delight it is thus to dream of what I
would do for you! Then I would bring you home, dear, and lead you
through my garden and into my house as its mistress. I would see
you standing beside me in the old mirror at the end of the hall--a
bride, in your pale blue dress, with a blush on your face. I
would lead you through all the rooms made ready for your coming,
and then to your own. I would see you sitting in your own chair
and all my dreams would find rich fulfilment in that royal moment.
Oh, Alice, we would have a beautiful life together! It's sweet to
make believe about it. You will sing to me in the twilight, and
we will gather early flowers together in the spring days. When I
come home from work, tired, you will put your arms about me and
lay your head on my shoulder. I will stroke it--so--that bonny,
glossy head of yours. Alice, my Alice--all mine in my dream--
never to be mine in real life--how I love you!"

The Alice behind him could bear no more. She gave a little