that anguish is over; the shadow has gone out of those
beautiful eyes that are looking at me. It is because loving me, knowing
now what love is, knowing, too, how much I love you, that you no longer
need to speak to any other living being of such things? To tell it, to
show it, to me is now enough--is it not so, Rima? How strange it seemed,
at first, when you shrank in fear from me! But, afterwards, when you
prayed aloud to your mother, opening all the secrets of your heart, I
understood it. In that lonely, isolated life in the wood you had heard
nothing of love, of its power over the heart, its infinite sweetness;
when it came to you at last it was a new, inexplicable thing, and filled
you with misgivings and tumultuous thoughts, so that you feared it and
hid yourself from its cause. Such tremors would be felt if it had always
been night, with no light except that of the stars and the pale moon, as
we saw it a little while ago on the mountain; and, at last, day dawned,
and a strange, unheard-of rose and purple flame kindled in the eastern
sky, foretelling the coming sun. It would seem beautiful beyond anything
that night had shown to you, yet you would tremble and your heart beat
fast at that strange sight; you would wish to fly to those who might be
able to tell you its meaning, and whether the sweet things it prophesied
would ever really come. That is why you wished to find your people, and
came to Riolama to seek them; and when you knew--when I cruelly told
you--that they would never be found, then you imagined that that strange
feeling in your heart must remain a secret for ever, and you could
not endure the thought of your loneliness. If you had not fainted so
quickly, then I should have told you what I must tell you now. They are
lost, Rima--your people--but I am with you, and know what you feel, even
if you have no words to tell it. But what need of words? It shines in
your eyes, it burns like a flame in your face; I can feel it in your
hands. Do you not also see it in my face--all that I feel for you, the
love that makes me happy? For this is love, Rima, the flower and the
melody of life, the sweetest thing, the sweet miracle that makes our two
souls one."

Still resting in my arms, as if glad to rest there, still gazing into
my face, it was clear to me that she understood my every word. And then,
with no trace of doubt or fear left, I stooped again, until my lips were
on hers; and when I drew back once more, ha