The sea was unusually calm, the sky above was
blue, the air mild and balmy, the white sea-gulls circled in the air,
the waves broke with gentle murmur on the yellow sand.

He sat down on the sloping beach. They had nothing to tell him, those
rolling, restless waves--no sweet story of hope or of love, no vague
pleasant harmony. With a deep moan he bent his head as he thought of the
fair young wife from whom he had parted for evermore, the beautiful
loving girl who had clung to him so earnestly.

"Madaline, Madaline!" he cried aloud: and the waves seemed to take up
the cry--they seemed to repeat "Madaline" as they broke on the shore.
"Madaline," the mild wind whispered. It was like the realization of a
dream, when he heard his name murmured, and, turning, he saw his lost
wife before him.

The next moment he had sprung to his feet, uncertain at first whether it
was really herself or some fancied vision.

"Madaline," he cried, "is it really you?"

"Yes; you must not be angry with me, Norman. See, we are quite alone;
there is no one to see me speak to you, no one to reveal that we have
met."

She trembled as she spoke; her face--to him more beautiful than
ever--was raised to his with a look of unutterable appeal.

"You are not angry, Norman?"

"No, I am not angry. Do not speak to me as though I were a tyrant.
Angry--and with you, Madaline--always my best beloved--how could that
be?"

"I knew that you were here," she said. "I saw in a newspaper that you
were going to Tintagel for the summer. I had been longing to see you
again--to see you, while unseen myself so I came hither."

"My dear Madaline, to what purpose?" he asked, sadly.

"I felt that if I did not look upon your face I should die--that I could
live no longer without seeing you. Such a terrible fever seemed to be
burning my very life away. My heart yearned for the touch of your hand.
So I came. You are not angry that I came?"

"No, not angry; but, my darling, it will be harder for us to part."

"I have been here in Tintagel for two whole days," she continued. "I
have seen you, but this is the first time you have gone where I could
follow. Now speak to me, Norman. Say something to me that will cure my
terrible pain--that will take the weary aching from my heart. Say
something that will make me stronger to bear my desolate life--braver to
live without you. You are wiser, better, stronger, braver than I. Teach
me to bear my fate."

What could he say?