love her
passionately," and he threw a pebble in the water farther than he had
yet; "but she is so pure, so delicate, that when I approach her, in
spite of my besottedness, my love grows lambent. That's not like me,
you know," with great vehemence. "Will she never understand me?"

His face darkened, and he looked so strangely intent into my eyes that
I was obliged to turn away; he disturbed me.

"Veronica probably will not understand you, but you must manage for
yourself. As you have discerned, she and I are far apart. She is pure,
noble, beautiful, and peculiar. I will have no voice between you."

"You must, you do. We shall hear it if you do not speak. You have a
great power, tall enchantress."

"Certainly. What a powerful life is mine!"

"You come to these shores often. Are you not different beside them?
This colorless picture before us--these vague spaces of sea and
land--the motion of the one--the stillness of the other--have you no
sense that you have a powerful spirit?"

"Is it power? It is pain."

"Your gold has not been refined then."

"Yes, I confess I have a sense of power; but it is not a spiritual
sense."

"Let us go back," he said abruptly.

We mused by our footprints in the wet sand, as we passed them. We were
told when we reached home that Veronica had gone on some expedition
with Fanny. She did not return till time for supper, looking elfish,
and behaving whimsically, as if she had received instructions
accordingly. I fancied that the expression Ben regarded her with might
be the Bellevue Pickersgill expression, it was so different from any
I had seen. There was a haughty curiosity in his face; as she passed
near him, he looked into her eyes, and saw the strange cast which made
their sight so far off.

"Veronica, where are you?" he asked.

The tone of his voice attracted mother's regards; an intelligent
glance was exchanged, and then her eyes sought mine. "It is not as you
thought, mamma," I telegraphed. But Verry, not bringing her eyes back
into the world, merely said, "I am here, am I not?" and went to shut
herself up in her room. I found her there, looking through the wicket.

"The buds are beginning to swell," she said. "I should hear small
voices breaking out from the earth. I grow happy every day now."

"Because the earth will be green again?" I asked, in a coaxing voice.

She shut the wicket, and, looking in my face, said, "I will go down
immediately." For some reason the tears