d to step over the very places where
her feet had trod. On reaching Buckingham Gate he turned back and walked
round the park, and again round it, and yet again. The bells tolled out
the hours, the cabs went westward with ladies in evening wraps going home
from theatres, the tide of traffic ebbed farther and farther and died
down, but still he walked and the wind sang to him.

"God can not blame us," he thought. "We were made to love each other." He
uncovered his head to let the wind comb through his hair, and he was
happy, happy, happy! Sometimes he shut his eyes, and then it was hard to
believe that she was not walking by his side, a fragrant presence in the
moonlight, going step by step with him.

When the day was near the wind had gone, the little world of wood was
silent, and his footsteps crunched on the gravel. Then a yellow gleam
came in the sky to the east, and a chill gust swept up as a scout before
the dawn, the trees began to shiver, the surface of the lake to creep,
the birds to call, and the world to stretch itself and yawn.

Peace in her chamber, wheresoe'er
It be--a holy place.

As he went home by Birdcage Walk the park was still heavy with sleep, and
its homeless wanderers had not yet risen from their couches on the seats.
A pale mist was lying over London, but the towers of the Abbey stood
clear above it, and pigeons were wheeling around them like sea-fowl about
rocks in the sea. What a night it had been! A night of dreams, of love,
of rapture!

The streets were empty and very quiet--only the slow rattle of the
dust-cart and the measured step of policemen changing beats. Long blue
vistas and a cemetery silence as of a world under the great hand of the
gentle brother of Death, and then the clang of Big Ben striking six.

A letter was waiting for John in the breathless hall. It was from the
Bishop of London: "Come and see me at St. James's Square."

XV.

Suddenly there sprang out to Glory the charm and fascination of the life
she was putting away. Trying to be true to her altered relations with
John Storm, she did not go to rehearsal the next morning--, but not yet
having the courage of her new position, she did not tell Rosa her true
reason for staying away. The part was exhausting--it tried her very much;
a little break would do no harm. Rosa wrote to apologize for her on the
score of health, and thus the first cloud of dissimulation rose up
between them.

Two days passed, and then