Lady Anne, accompanied by Nick and Claire, started for the inn of the Green Dragon, whither the landlord had hurried on ahead to prepare temporary quarters for the now homeless little company from the castle. But Jean and Blaise still lingered by the deserted ruins, loth to say farewell to the place that had meant so much to them. Beneath the misty azure of the summer morning sky, fanned by little vagrant zephyrs--rearguard of the hurricane which had passed--stood all that remained of Beirnfels--blackened, naked walls, stark against that tender blue, brooding above a mass of cooling wreckage. Jean’s mouth quivered a little as her glance took in the scene of utter desolation. “My House of Dreams,” she whispered brokenly. She was silent for a few moments, her eyes embracing all that had once been Beirnfels in a gaze which held both farewell and retrospect. And something more--some vision of the future. In the dawn-light pearling the sky above she recognised the eternal promise of Him Who “commanded the light to shine out of darkness.” Her House of Dreams! The inner meaning of the song had grown suddenly clear to her. When she turned again to Blaise, her expression was serene and tranquil. Touched with regret perhaps, but bravely confident. “I don’t think it matters, Blaise,” she said simply. “Beirnfels was only a symbol, after all. My House of Dreams-Come-True isn’t built of stones and mortar. No one’s is. It’s just--where love is.” End of Project Gutenberg's The House Of Dreams-Come-True, by Margaret Pedler