As her body had been brought back to the fulness of life from the very pit of death, so the magic of Henry’s letter changed the blackness of her despair to a dawn of hope, by contrast so bright that it dazzled her mind. She had no recollection of writing the letter to which Henry alluded; indeed, had she been herself she would never have written it, and even now she did not know what she had told him or what she had left untold. What she was pleased to consider his goodness and generosity in offering to make her his wife touched her most deeply, and she blessed him for them, but neither the secret pleading of her love nor Mrs. Bird’s arguments convinced her that it would be right to take advantage of them. The gate of what seemed to be an earthly paradise was of a sudden thrown open to her feet: behind her lay solitude, sorrow, sin and agonising shame, before her were peace, comfort, security, and that good report which every civilised woman must desire; but ought she to enter by that gate? A warning instinct answered “No,” and yet she had not strength to shut it. Why should she, indeed? If she might judge the future from the past, Fate would do her that disservice; such happiness could not be for one so wicked. Yet till the blow fell she might please her fancy by standing upon the threshold of her heaven, and peopling the beyond with unreal glories which her imagination furnished without stay or stint. She was still too weak to struggle against the glamour of these visions, for that they could become realities Joan did not believe, rather did she submit herself to them, and satisfy her soul with a false but penetrating delight, such as men grasp in dreams. Of only one thing was she sure that Henry loved her and in that knowledge, so deep was her folly, she found reward for all she had undergone, or that could by any possibility be left for her to undergo; for had he not loved her, as she believed, he would never have offered to marry her. He loved her, and she would see him; then things must take their chance, meanwhile she would rest and be content. CHAPTER XXXII. THE CLOSING OF THE GATE.