He came like a young god, radiant and clothed in glory. All the creatures of his dreams were awake within him, all his demons and his muses; he had but to call them and they answered. There was a sound of trumpets and harps in his soul all day; he was like a man half walking, half running, in the midst of a great storm of wind. He had fought the good fight, and he had conquered. The world was at his feet, and he had no longer any fear of it. The jangling of the street-cars was music to him, the roar and rush of the city stirred his pulses--this was the life he had come to shape to his will! And so he came to Corydon, glorious and irresistible. His mind was quite made up--he would take her; he was master now, he had no longer any doubts or fears. He was thrilled all through him with the thought of her; how wonderful it was at such an hour to have some one to communicate with--some one in whose features he could see a reflection of his own exaltation! He recollected the words of the old German poet-- “Der ist selig zu begrussen Der ein treues Herze weiss!” He went to Corydon’s home. In the parlor he came upon her unannounced; and she started and stared at him as at a ghost. She did not make a sound, but he saw the pallor sweep over her face, he saw her tremble and sway. She was like a reed shaken by the wind--so fragile and so sensitive! He got a sudden sense of the storm of emotion that was shaking her; and it frightened him, while at the same time it thrilled him strangely. He came and took her hands in his, and gently touched her cheek with his lips. She stared at him dumbly. “It’s all right, sweetheart,” he whispered. “It’s all right.” And she closed her eyes, and it seemed as if to breathe was all she could do. “Come, dearest,” he said. “Let us go out.” And half in a daze she put on her hat and coat, and they went out on the street. He took her arm to steady her. “Well?” she asked. “It’s all right, dearest,” he said. “You got my letter?” “Yes, I got it. And it was a wonderful letter. It couldn’t have been better.” “Ah!” “And there’s no more to be said. There’s no refusing such a challenge. You shall come with me.” “But Thyrsis! Do you _want_ me to come?” “Yes,” he said, “I want you.” And he felt a tremor pass through her arm. He pressed it tightly to his side. “I love you!” he whispered. “Ah Thyrsis!” she exclaimed. “How you have tortured me!” “Hush, dear!” he replied. “Let’s not think of that. It’s all past now. We are going on! You have proven your grit. You are wonderful!” They went into the park, and sat upon a bench in the sun. “I’ve finished the book!” he said. “And in a couple more days it’ll be copied. I’ve a letter of introduction to a publisher, and he wrote me he’d read it at once.” “It seems like a dream to me,” she whispered. “We won’t have to wait long after that,” he said. “Everything will be clear before us.” “And what will you do in the meantime?” she asked.