“I will marry you whenever you like,” said beautiful Helena, smiling through her tears. “But will you not weary of staying here?” “With you? never!” “Ah, it is I who am the attraction—not Melnos!” “It is both; but in my eyes you are before everything else in the world.” “And if you grow tired of me?” “I will never grow tired of you!” Helena picked up a rose from her lap and held it up to him. “This rose is very beautiful, but it fades. Is your love like the rose?” “Yes; but not because the rose fades. My love is like the rose-plant itself, which renews itself afresh with every coming of summer. In this island it blooms all the year round; and my love will be the same.” “Will you not regret your home, your money, your position?” “My dearest, none of those things brought me happiness. I was a weary, mournful man, tired of life, tired of myself, tired of all around me; then by chance I saw your face, and it was as a star in the darkness of my night. I followed that star, and it led me to happiness, and to you!” “So we will live here?” “Till our days be ended. You will be queen, and I your very humble slave and lover. No; I do not desire to return to the world, with all its tumult, ambitions, and fret. I am weary of the crowded cities, the haggard faces, the gray skies of England. I only care to live in this lotus-land with you, my angel, to wander with you amid the fair flowers, yourself the fairest of all; to sleep at dusk with your loving arms around me, to awake at dawn under your caress; and thus to live in paradise until we meet in a still brighter paradise beyond the grave.” “Will we meet beyond the grave?” “Helena!” “I know nothing of religion, my dearest. Indeed, it is not my fault, for my father has always refused to answer my questions. He would not allow old Athanasius to speak to me of sacred things, and I know nothing, save that there is an Almighty Being called God.” “And your father?” “Believes the same. Look!” She pointed to the majestic block of white marble behind her, and there was deeply sculptured the one word “Θεόν.” “So of old the Athenians erected an altar to πρὸς τὸν ἀγναστον Θεόν,” said Maurice sadly, rather puzzled to know what to do. “My dearest, I am no saint, to be able to instruct you in such things; and I am afraid my views are not what the Church would approve of. However, my dear old friend and tutor, Mr. Carriston, is, I trust, coming out here to see me; and he will marry us, and tell you all you wish to know of sacred things.”