ght. How happy I am!--I
can scarcely believe I have got you. To have you here by me seems so
unreal, so impossible. I always loved you. I want to tell you about
myself. You were my ideal when I was a boy; I had already imagined
you; my poems were all addressed to you. My own sweet ideal that none
knew of but myself. You shall come and see me all the summer through,
in this room--our room. When will you come again?"

"I shall never come again--it is time to go."

"To go! Why, you haven't kissed me yet!"

"I do not intend to kiss you."

"How cruel of you! You say you will never come and see me again; you
break and destroy my dream."

"How did you dream of me?"

"I dreamed the world was buried in snow, barred with frost--that I
never went out, but sat here waiting for you to come. I dreamed that
you came to see me on regular days. I saw myself writing poems to
you, looking up to see the clock from time to time. Tea and wine were
ready, and the room was scented with your favourite perfume. Ting!
How the bell thrilled me, and with what precipitation I rushed to the
door! There I found you. What pleasure to lead you to the great fire,
to help you to take off your pelisse!"

The girl looked at him, her eyes full of innocent wonderment.

"How can you think of such things? It sounds like a fairy tale. And
if it were summer-time?"

"Oh! if it were summer we should have roses in the room, and only a
falling rose-leaf should remind us of the imperceptible passing of
the hours. We should want no books, the picturesqueness of the river
would be enough. And holding your little palm in mine, so silken and
delicately moist, I would draw close to you."

Knowing his skin was delicate to the touch, he took her arm in his
hand, but she drew her arm away, and there was incipient denial in
the withdrawal. His face clouded. But he had not yet made up his mind
how he should act, and to gain time to think, he said--

"Tell me why you thought of entering a convent?"

"I was not happy at home, and the convent, with its prayers and
duties, seemed preferable. But it was not quite the same as I had
imagined, and I couldn't learn to forget that there was a world of
beauty, colour, and love."

"You could not but think of the world of men that awaited you."

"I only thought of Him."

"And who was he?"

"Ah! He was a very great saint, a greater saint than you'll ever be.
I fell in love with Him when I was quite a little girl."

"Wh