nst her face, as if in the gloom
she found too much light. It was a sensation of shame which came upon
her, a tremor of maidenhood in re-living, swift instant by instant, all
that had just passed. Had she in any way aided in bringing about that
confession? Had she done anything, made a motion, uttered a tone, which
broke away the barrier between herself and him? When she could recover
self-consciousness, disembarrass herself of the phantom moments which
would not fleet with the rest of time, it was scarcely joy which she
read in her heart; apprehension, dismay, lack of courage to look forward
beyond this night, these oppressed her. Then, close upon the haunting
reality of his voice, his touch, came inability to believe what had
happened. Had a transient dreamful slumber crept upon her as she sat
here alone? So quickly had the world suffered re-creation, so magical
the whelming of old days in a new order, so complete the change in
herself. One word she knew which had power from eternity to do these
things, and that word neither he nor she had uttered. But there was no
need, when the night spoke it in every beat of time.

Fearful of being seen, she at length ventured to return to the house.
Moonlight streamed full upon her bed; it would have irked her as yet to
take off her clothes, she lay in the radiance, which seemed to touch her
with warm influences, and let her eyes rest upon the source of light.
Then at length joy came and throned in her heart, joy that would mate
with no anxious thought, no tremulous brooding. This was _her_ night!
There might be other happy beings in the world to whom it was also the
beginning of new life, but in _her_ name was its consecration, hers the
supremacy of blessedness. Let the morrow wait on the hour of waking, if
indeed sleep would ever come; this moment, the sacred _now_, was all
that she could comprehend.

She undressed at length, and even slept, fitfully, always to start into
wakefulness with a sense of something to be thought upon, to be
realised, to be done. The weariness of excitement perturbed her joy; the
meeting which was to take place in a few hours became a nervous
preoccupation. The moonlight had died away; the cold light of dawn began
to make objects in the room distinct. Was it good to have consented so
readily to meet him? Nay, but no choice had been left her; his eagerness
would take no refusal; and it was impossible for things to remain as
they were, without calmer ta