lly above Olga's head. With a fast-beating heart I
watched it from my resting place. It grew in size, and increased in
height, gradually assuming the form of my darling, a complete
counterpart of the one lying before me in the soft blue gown.

The face, the golden braids, the fingers, and the wedding ring were all
there, completed by a smile so heavenly that I gazed as one transfixed.

Could this, then, be Olga, and not a stray beam of light which had
struggled through the curtains?

"Olga!" I cried, stretching out my arms toward her in an ecstasy of
gladness.

"Dear Victor! Have no fear. I will come again." The voice seemed like
Olga's and as full of love as ever.

With that the beautiful yellow light began slowly to fade, the form of
my beloved melted into a haze which drifted gradually upward and out of
sight. Then I awoke.

Weeks passed, during which the fall rains set in, and I was working as
hard as ever; not so much in a feverish desire for the gold I was taking
out of the ground, but because the work helped me to forget my sorrow. I
did not cease to think hourly of Olga, but I wished to put behind me the
shock of her sudden leave-taking, and remember the fact that she was
still in memory mine, that she was watching over me and would visit me
in my dreams.

My all-absorbing love for her I could not--did not wish to put away from
me. I had loved her so devotedly that I envied the passing breeze which
played among the loose locks of the hair on her forehead. I had envied
the dust of the road as it clung to her feet because it could remain so
near to her; and I longed to become the atmosphere she breathed, that I
might live a part of her very physical being This sort of love never
dies, because it is part of one's constitution and sub-consciousness,
and cannot be eradicated.

I grew more and more silent. I was physically well and strong, but
looked forward from morning until night to going home to my cabin and
Olga. Each evening when my lonely supper had been eaten I turned the key
of the adjoining cabin door, and carefully locked it behind me. From the
outer place I entered the room which was now a sacred spot. A solitary
candle gave all the light required. Lifting the section of flooring upon
which had been placed two strong hinges, a few turns of the mechanical
contrivance brought up from below the narrow bed in which the earthly
form of Olga rested, securely covered by clear and heavy glass.

In my lo