From the boundless deep above me Come their calm and tender beams, Bringing to my wayward fancy Sweetest dreams. Sweetest dreams of love unending, Bitter tears for love undone; For the dearest, for the fairest, Only one. Falsest-hearted, only chosen-- Soon the short-lived dream was o'er-- He is gone, and I am lonely Evermore." The last words were sung in a broken voice, and she now leaned her head against the casement-frame, and I heard her sobbing. My agitation was so great that I forgot the precaution which my situation demanded, and a stone which I had dislodged from the crumbling edge of the terrace rolled down the slope. Constance started, and called with an unsteady voice, "Who is there?" I judged it more prudent to discover myself, and approached her, saying that it was I. "Ah, it is you, then," she said. "I entreat you to forgive me. The music of your guitar attracted me. I know I ought not to have come: pray forgive me." I stood near her; the light from the room fell brightly upon her face and her eyes, which were lifted to mine. "How kind you are," she said in a soft voice; "or are you not dealing truly with me?" I could not trust myself to answer, but she knew how to interpret my silence aright. "Yes," she said, "you are my trusty squire, my faithful George. If I were to say to you: watch this terrace tonight until the break of day, you would do it, would you not?" "Yes," I answered. She looked in my face and smiled. "How sweet it is--how sweet to know that there is one creature upon earth that is true to us!" She gave me her hand; my own trembled as I took it. "But I do not ask anything of the kind," she said; "only this one thing, that you will not go away except by your own determination, and not without my permission. You promise? That is so kind of you! And now go; good-night!" She lightly pressed my hand before letting it go, and then re-entered her room. As I turned away I heard the casement close. I stood under one of the great trees of the park and looked back towards the house. The moon had risen above the trees, and the great mass of buildings stood out in bolder relief against the dark background; a faint light occasionally appeared and vanished in one of the windows of the upper story. The light from Constance's window came towards me with that magic lustre which shines upon us once in our lives, and only once.