mate. They stood trembling in unison, a lovely couple under these fair
heavens of the morning.

When he could get his voice it said, "Will you go?"

But she had none to reply with, and could only mutely bend upward her
gentle wrist.

"Then, farewell!" he said, and, dropping his lips to the soft fair hand,
kissed it, and hung his head, swinging away from her, ready for death.

Strange, that now she was released she should linger by him. Strange,
that his audacity, instead of the executioner, brought blushes and timid
tenderness to his side, and the sweet words, "You are not angry with me?"

"With you, O Beloved!" cried his soul. "And you forgive me, fair
charity!"

"I think it was rude of me to go without thanking you again," she said,
and again proffered her hand.

The sweet heaven-bird shivered out his song above him. The gracious
glory of heaven fell upon his soul. He touched her hand, not moving his
eyes from her, nor speaking, and she, with a soft word of farewell,
passed across the stile, and up the pathway through the dewy shades of
the copse, and out of the arch of the light, away from his eyes.

And away with her went the wild enchantment. He looked on barren air.
But it was no more the world of yesterday. The marvellous splendours had
sown seeds in him, ready to spring up and bloom at her gaze; and in his