utters.
Beyond the dazzling, black-and-white chequer of the terrace and
balustrade, they rested on the cool green of the formal garden, the
glistering dome and slender columns of the pavilion set in the angle of
the terminal wall.--And this last reminded her quaintly of that other
pavilion, embroidered, with industry of innumerable stitches, upon the
curtains of the state bed at home--that pavilion, set for rest and
refreshment in the midst of the tangled ways of the Forest of This
Life, where the Hart may breathe in security, fearless of Care, the
pursuing Leopard, which follows all too close behind.--Owing to her
position and the sharp drop of the hillside, Naples itself, the great
painted city, its fine buildings and crowded shipping, was unseen. But,
far away, the lofty promontory of Sorrento sketched itself in palest
lilac upon the azure of the sea and sky.

And, as Katherine reasoned, if this fair prospect, after so many ages
of tumultuous history and the shock of calamitous events, after battle,
famine, terror of earthquake and fire, devastation by foul disease,
could still recover and present such an effect of triumphant
youthfulness, such, at once august and mirthful, charm, might not her
beloved one, lying here broken in health and in spirit, likewise regain
the glory of his manhood and the delight of it, notwithstanding present
weakness and mournful eclipse?--Yes, it would come right--come
right--Katherine told herself, thereby making one of those magnificent
acts of faith which go so far to produce just that which they prophesy.
God could not have created so complex and beautiful a creature, and
permitted it so to suffer, save to the fulfilment of some clear purpose
which would very surely be made manifest at last. God Almighty should
be justified of His strange handiwork; and she of her love before the
whole of the story was told.--And, stirred by these thoughts, and by
the fervour of her own pious confidence, Katherine's finger-tips
traveled more rapidly over the palm of that outstretched and passive
hand. Then, on a sudden, she became aware that Richard was looking
fixedly at her. She turned her head proudly, the exaltation of a living
faith very present in her smile.

"You are the same," he said slowly. His voice was low, toneless, and
singularly devoid of emotion.--"Deliciously the same. You are just as
lovely. You still have your pretty colour. You are hardly a day
older----"

He paused, still rega