At that moment Mrs. Filmer broke the dangerous charm by an imperative assertion that "it was high time the house was locked up for the night. She had been asleep and forgotten herself," she said, and there was a tone of hurry and worry in her voice. So emotion, and romance, and young love's dreaming were locked out in the moonshine; and there was a commonplace saying of "good-nights." At their bedroom doors, Rose and Adriana kissed each other, and Rose said: "I have been thinking of poor Dick Duval. Poor Dick! He loves me so much!" "Then love him in return, Rose." "Impossible! He is poor." With a sad smile, and a deep sigh, Rose shut her door. It was characteristic of her, that she had not thought of Adriana and Harry. But Harry could not sleep for thought--for a sweet, pervading, drifting thought, that had no definite character, and would indeed have been less sweet if it had been more definite. He could only tell himself that he had found a new kind of woman; that her beauty filled his heart; and that her voice--whether she spoke or sang--set him vibrating from head to feet. As for Adriana she was serious, almost sorrowful, and she wondered at the mood, finding it nevertheless quite beyond her control. Had she been wiser in love lore she would have feared it; for there is a gloom in the beginnings of a great love, as there is gloom in deep water; a silence which suspends expression; an attitude shy and almost reverent, it being the nature of true love to purify the temple in which it burns. CHAPTER II The next morning Harry went to New York. Mrs. Filmer, Rose, and Adriana stood on the piazza and watched him leap into the dog-cart, gather up the reins, and drive away at a rate supposed to be necessary in order to "catch the train." He looked very handsome and resolute, and the house felt empty without his predominating presence. "Harry promises to be home again at five o'clock; then, if we are ready, he will drive with us," said Rose; and towards this hour all the day's hopes and happiness verged. For already Harry stole sweetly into Adriana's imaginations, and to Rose his return was interesting, because he was to bring back with him his friend Neil Gordon. Neil was not Rose's ideal lover; but he was unconquered, and therefore provoking and supposable; and as environment has much to do with love, Rose hoped that the heart, hard as flint to her charms in the city, might become submissive and tender among the roses and syringas.