"Maiden," he said, "thou must not look backwards. Let the aged dream of the days that are gone; thy future is before thee. It waits for thee, yonder behind the sun that is rising on the world. Wilt thou go with me and give up thy wish, content to let the Village of Youth grow old, as is the fate of all things mortal? Thou wilt be happier in thine own country. Far away, in its valleys, the flowers and the summer call for thee. Come." He stepped into his chariot, and held out his arms towards her. "Nay, good my lord; I will await thee here, and try to forget the flowers and the summer, remembering only thee and thy promise." The youth waved his hand in token of adieu, and vanished from her sight. [Illustration] After her companion's departure she roamed about the garden. That portion of it which surrounded the palace was bare and treeless, but in the distance she could see forests of white poplars. She found some grey poppies in the garden not unlike those that bloomed in the Village of Youth, excepting that these of the country of Time had thick pulpy stems, resembling the water-lily. A straggling plant attracted her notice; it looked like hemlock, only that the flower was of a deep purple. Lifting her face from the gloom of the floral beds, her eyes rested on the Garden of the Past. The wish to explore it, and to find in its green mazes her early days once more, was irresistible. Trembling with excitement, she sought for a path that should lead her to the seashore. With much difficulty, she succeeded in clambering down the steep descent. Upon the strand she found a tiny boat, with quaint paddles, in which she made for the shining coast. The skiff progressed rapidly. As it neared the land, Beryl noticed a great change in the atmosphere. The cold and mist of the country of Time were left behind her. Resting upon her oars, she cooled her hands in the sea. To her astonishment, she discovered that the water was not salt; it tasted as fresh and as pure as the crystal stream that flowed through the Village of Youth. Great as was her desire to enter the wonderful garden that lay stretched before her, she almost regretted this last adventure. The heat became intense. There was no longer a ripple on the sea. Everything lay dead still. When close in shore, all suddenly she could make no further progress; the more she plied her paddles, the further she drifted backwards. At length exhausted, she lost consciousness. On recovering Beryl was surprised to find herself in the misty garden again, Time bending over her with a pitying expression on his face. "Thou shouldst not have gone to seek the Garden of the Past; even I cannot gain access to its groves," he said, when she had revived. "I am grieved, and wish I had not ventured thither." Touched by her sorrowful contrition, the youth held up a bunch of faded red poppies and said soothingly,-- "I thought of thee as I passed by the Village of Youth."