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Although we had never spoken of my book before he seemed to know all
about it; and it flashed upon me at that moment that, while I thought I
had been playing a game of make-believe with him, he had been playing a
game of make-believe with me, and had known everything from the first.
There was a certain relief in that, yet there was a certain sting in it,
too. What strange creatures we are, we women!

For some moments we stood together at the bottom of the stairs, holding
each other's hands. I was dreadfully afraid he was going to break down
as he did at Castle Raa, and once again I had that thrilling, swelling
feeling (the most heavenly emotion that comes into a woman's life,
perhaps) that I, the weak one, had to strengthen the strong.

It was only for a moment, though, and then he put his great gentle arms
about me, and kissed me on the lips, and said, _silently_ but oh, so
eloquently, "Good-bye darling, and God bless you!"

Then I walked upstairs alone, quite alone, and when I reached the top he
was still at the bottom looking up at me. I smiled down to him, then
walked firmly into my room and up to my bed, and then . . . down, all
my strength gone in a moment.

* * * * *

I have had such a wonderful experience during the night. It was like a
dream, and yet something more than a dream. I don't want to make too
much of it--to say that it was a vision or any supernatural
manifestation such as the blessed Margaret Mary speaks about. Perhaps it
was only the result of memory operating on my past life, my thoughts and
desires. But perhaps it was something higher and more spiritual, and
God, for my comforting, has permitted me to look for one moment behind
the veil.

I thought it was to-morrow--my wedding day, and the day of Father Dan's
thanksgiving celebration--and I was sitting by my French window (which
was wide open) to look at the procession.

I seemed to see everything--Father Dan in his surplice, the fishermen in
their clean "ganzies," the village people in their Sunday clothes, the
Rechabites, the Foresters, and the Odd-fellows with their coloured
badges and banners coming round the corner of the road, and the mothers
with babies too young to be left looking on from the bridge.

I thought the procession passed under my window and went on to the
church, which was soon crowded, leaving numbers of people to kneel on
the path in front, as far down as the crumbling