"We are all his students," Mrs. Parr put in, "whether we wish to be or not." She spoke with such feeling that the others were moved to laughter. For some time she had been looking from Leigh to Felicity with that birdlike movement of the head, until she had made a woman's great discovery, that her friend was not indifferent to his admiration. Without going so far as to wish Felicity to marry him, she was deeply pleased that he seemed to have driven away the more unworthy fancy. This was enough for the present, and her content shone in her glances toward the young man like an unspoken message of good-will. As they stood on the curb outside while Mr. Parr went to find his carriage, the scene before them presented such a contrast with the experiences of the evening that instinctively they were hushed in contemplation. The bare branches of the trees in the park across the way were silvered by the rays of the full moon, which wrought a motionless tracery on the thin remnant of snow beneath. Through a gap could be seen the white shaft of the soldiers' monument, lifting high above the trees a splendid figure of Victory, with wings outspread against the pale sky. Modelled after the Pillar of Trajan, only more lovely in the purity of its white marble, it was one of the rare objects of art that gave Warwick a claim to distinction and justified the pride of its citizens. Around it were carved innumerable figures of soldiers, climbing a spiral pathway. Indistinguishable now in the moonlight, they still remained in the memory, like the echo of a martial song. This was the first appeal of the night, made to the eye alone; but presently, despite the random noises of the street, they became aware of a dull, continuous sound, and knew that the stream which intersected the park on its way to the river had been freed from ice by the January thaw, and was pouring its swollen waters over the dam. The note was deep and full, like a solemn recitative, as if Nature's diurnal harmonies had sunk to this one transitional key. Above all, the mildness of the air, full of the alluring witchery of a false spring, affected the imagination like a delicate, ethereal wine. Leigh lifted his head and swept the sky with the keenness of the scientist to whom its vast spaces are a familiar book; yet when he suddenly desisted and looked down at Felicity, she saw in his eyes the rare expression of the poet. "It would almost seem," he said, "that Nature has gradually been taking on a more serene and mysterious beauty every moment, to rebuke the feverish struggles of men."