What can so delay Inidor[a:]? He must have found the Istoir[a:] unusually interesting. We will seek him there. Ah--see how like one enchanted he stands gazing upon a woman kneeling before the flower laden altar. Over her white robes falls a wealth of dark, waving hair, which, like a silken mantle, partly conceals her large, dark, luminous eyes and marvellously lovely face, in which yet lingers the timidity and guilelessness of childhood. So entrancing is the young creature that Inidor[a:] is unconscious of our presence. Now she prays to Azēon, God of Love, to send her a lover who shall be handsome, tender and true, and she will be faithful and loving until death shall call them into the Silence. Prayer from a heart so pure, uttered by lips so tremulous, so beautiful, might move either mortal or Spirit. Genessano, speak to your brother, for truly he is lost to all save this lovely girl. Genessano--Inidor[a:], my brother, have you found in this beautiful suppliant your other Self? Nay, start not; it is I, Genessano. You were so absorbed that you did not observe our coming in search of you. Inidora--Yes, yes, I indeed have found my other Self, and cannot claim my own. Oh, thou beauteous Spirit Amilla, for whom I have searched the worlds of space, clothed thou art in flesh, which holds thee as the shell holds the pearl. Blind and deaf thou art to the presence of thy lover, thy other Self, whom thou prayest Azēon to send thee. Drawn to thee through the law which attracts each to its own, I again have found thee, and henceforth I shall guard and guide thee until thou art free; then again wilt thou find thy lover tender and true, and I shall claim thee for my very own. Amilla, dearest, loveliest one, reverently I kiss thy perfumed hair, thy upturned brow, beneath which thy luminous eyes shine like twin stars. I touch with mine thy parted lips, and the fragrance of thy breath is as the fragrance of rodels, but thou knowest not that I am near thee. Amilla, Amilla, oh, couldst thou know, that as of old thy lover so tender, so true, stands beside thee, how quickly wouldst thou turn toward me thy face, which is as beautiful as is the face of an angel. But thou dost not know, thou dost not know. Alas, thou hast so forgotten the past that I am as naught to thee. Oh, it is pitiful, pitiful, that I cannot make thee understand. Fain would I this moment free thee, but I must not, I dare not. Friends, bear with me, for until I shall have brought her Soul into harmony with my own I shall remain with my regained Amilla, whose repeated embodiments, like my own, have held us far apart. This accomplished, I at intervals will be with you, and when my love shall be freed, oh, joy of joys! we together with you dear friends will for love's sake labor for the upliftment of humanity.