be left upon my cheek!" cried Georgiana. "Remove it, remove it,
whatever be the cost, or we shall both go mad!"

"Heaven knows your words are too true," said Aylmer, sadly. "And
now, dearest, return to your boudoir. In a little while all will
be tested."

He conducted her back and took leave of her with a solemn
tenderness which spoke far more than his words how much was now
at stake. After his departure Georgiana became rapt in musings.
She considered the character of Aylmer, and did it completer
justice than at any previous moment. Her heart exulted, while it
trembled, at his honorable love--so pure and lofty that it would
accept nothing less than perfection nor miserably make itself
contented with an earthlier nature than he had dreamed of. She
felt how much more precious was such a sentiment than that meaner
kind which would have borne with the imperfection for her sake,
and have been guilty of treason to holy love by degrading its
perfect idea to the level of the actual; and with her whole
spirit she prayed that, for a single moment, she might satisfy
his highest and deepest conception. Longer than one moment she
well knew it could not be; for his spirit was ever on the march,
ever ascending, and each instant required something that was
beyond the scope of the instant before.

The sound of her husband's footsteps aroused her. He bore a
crystal goblet containing a liquor colorless as water, but bright
enough to be the draught of immortality. Aylmer was pale; but it
seemed rather the consequence of a highly-wrought state of mind
and tension of spirit than of fear or doubt.