The tide of crimson that rushed into her face at these words was reflected in flame upon his. He would soon know now. The gossamer veil which still divided him from the truth was being rift. Yet a last diffidence kept down the cry of understanding on his lips. And still they were seeking hers in passionate silence. But that kiss which he would fain have had; that kiss which might have been the kiss of revelation, Ellinor held in reserve to be the seal of their acknowledged joy. She turned her head to glance out of the window. The great moment of her life had struck at last. The very harmony of the heavens seemed to be working for its record. The stars, in their passionless courses, had had strange influence over the life of that poor child of earth; and now it was as if they that had mocked her were making gracious atonement. Serene and aloof, the stately measure that had held at midnight the new-gemmed Northern Crown over the lovers’ mad meeting on that past Lammas-tide, was now unfolding at the ninth hour the self-same aspect of glory over their bridal joy. Against the line of David’s tower, just emerging out of blackness, the light of the new star, even as she looked, glided forth upon them. “See, love,” she called, and gently turned his face towards the casement: “See, our Star—” And, as he looked, he saw. Deep into his soul dropped the tender beam; and with it a revelation that seemed to fire where it struck. He gave a loud cry: “The dream, the dream!” then fell at her feet. “So strong, so chaste, so silent!... Oh, my wife!” The tears streamed down her face as she stooped to raise him to her lips. “The dream-life is over, David. We stand upon the threshold of the golden chamber. Shall we not enter?” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES 1. Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in spelling. 2. Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed. 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.