‘Not in advance of the ceremony,’ he answered. ‘In good time. You understand--an old friend making room for a new one, and that one young and beautiful, with golden tresses; at first...! But her heart is quite sound. Have no fear! I guarantee it; I know her to the roots. She desires my welfare, she does my behests. If I am bound to her by gratitude, so, and in a greater degree, is she to me. The utmost she will demand is that my bride shall be worthy of me--a good mate for me in the fight to come; and I have tested my bride and found her half my heart; therefore she passes the examination with the baroness.’ They left the tree behind them. ‘We will take good care not to return this way again,’ said Alvan, without looking back. ‘That tree belongs to a plantation of the under world; its fellows grow in the wood across Acheron, and that tree has looked into the ghastliness of the flood and seen itself. Hecate and Hermes know about it. Phoebus cannot light it. That tree stands for Death blooming. We think it sinister, but down there it is a homely tree. Down there! When do we go? The shudder in that tree is the air exchanging between Life and Death--the ghosts going and coming: it’s on the border line. I just felt the creep. I think you did. The reason is--there is always a material reason--that you were warm, and a bit of chill breeze took you as you gazed; while for my part I was imagining at that very moment what of all possible causes might separate us, and I acknowledged that death could do the trick. But death, my love, is far from us two!’ ‘Does she look as grimmish as she does in the photograph?’ said Clotilde.