In a few seconds more, Tredennis, who was standing in the hall, looked up from the carpet and saw her coming down the staircase with a little run, her white dress a cloud about her, her eyes shining like stars, the rose and heliotrope bouquet he had sent her in her hand. "Thank you for it," she said, as soon as she reached him. "I shall keep this, too; and see what I have done." And she pushed a leaf aside and showed him a faded sprig of heliotrope hidden among the fresh flowers. "I thought I would like to have a little piece of it among the rest," she said. And she gave him her hand, with a smile both soft and bright. "And you really kept it?" he said. "Oh, yes," she answered, simply. "You know I am going to keep it as long as I live. I wish we could keep you. I wish you were going with us." "I am going in a different direction," he said; "and"--suddenly, "I have not a minute to spare. Good-by." A little shadow fell on the brightness of her face. "I wish there was no such word as 'good-by,'" she said. There was a silence of a few seconds, in which her hand lay in his, and their eyes rested on each other. Then Mrs. Herrick and the professor appeared. "I believe," said Tredennis, "if you are going now, I will let you set out on your journey first. I should like to see--the last of you." "But it isn't the last of me," said Bertha, "it is the first of me--the very first. And my heart is beating quite fast." And she put her hand to the side of her slender white bodice, laughing a gay, sweet laugh, with a thrill of excitement in it. And then they went out to the carriage, and when Mrs. Herrick had been assisted in, Bertha stood for a moment on the pavement,--a bright, pure white figure, her flowers in her hand, the hall light shining upon her. "Papa!" she called to the professor, who stood on the threshold, "I never asked you if you liked it--the dress, you know." "Yes, child," said the professor. "Yes, child, I like--I like it." And his voice shook a little, and he said nothing more. And then Bertha got into the carriage and it drove away into the darkness. And almost immediately after Tredennis found himself in his carriage, which drove away into the darkness, too--only, as he laid his head against the cushions and closed his eyes, he saw, just as he had seen a moment before, a bright, pure white figure standing upon the pavement, the night behind it, the great bouquet of white roses in its hand, and the light from the house streaming upon the radiant girl's face. CHAPTER II.