alone here, for she speaks always to me of
love."

John Derringham looked at her sharply as she said this, and in her eyes
he saw two wells of purity, each with an evening star melted into its
depths.

And he suddenly was conscious of something which his whole life had
missed--for he knew he did not know what real love meant, not even that
which his mother might have given him, if she had lived.

He did not speak for a moment; he gazed into Halcyone's face. It seemed
as if a curtain had lifted for one instant and given him a momentary
glimpse into some heaven, and then dropped again, leaving a haunting
memory of sweetness, the more beautiful because indistinct.

"Love--" he said, still dreamily. "Surely there is yet another and a
deeper kind of love."

Halcyone raised her head, while a strange look grew in her wide eyes,
almost of fear. It was as though he had put into words some unspoken,
unadmitted thought.

"Yes," she said very softly, "I feel there is--but that is not all
peace; that must be gloriously terrible, because it would mean life."

He looked at her fully now; there was not an atom of coquetry or
challenge; her face was pale and exquisite in its simple intentness. He
turned to the goddess again, and almost chaunted:

"Oh! Aphrodite of the divine lips and soulful eyes, what mystery do you
hold for us mortals? What do you promise us? What do you make us pay? Is
the good worth the anguish? Is the fulfillment a cup worth
draining--without counting the cost?"

"What does she answer you?" whispered Halcyone. "Does she say that to
live and fulfill destiny as the beautiful year does is the only good? It
is wiser not to question and weigh the worth, for even though we would
not drink, perhaps we cannot escape--since there is Fate."

John Derringham pulled himself together with an effort. He felt he was
drifting into wonderland, where the paths were too tenderly sweet and
flowered for him to dare to linger, for there he might find and quaff of
the poison cup. So he said in a voice which he strove to bring back to
earth:

"Where did you get the beautiful thing? She is of untold value, of
course you know?"

Halcyone took the marble into her hands lovingly.

"She came to me out of the night," she said. "Some day I might tell you
how--but not to-day. I must put her back again. No one knows but Cheiron
and me--and now--you--that she is in existence, and no one else must
ever know."

He did not speak; he