he sun was beginning to glisten over the comb of the eastern highland,
and through an archway of the wood hung with old nests and ivy. The
lines of many a leaning tree were thrown, from the cliffs of the
foreland, down upon the sparkling grass at the foot of the western
crags. And through the dewy meadow's breast, fringed with shade, but
touched on one side with the sun-smile, ran the crystal water, curving
in its brightness like diverted hope.

On either bank, the blades of grass, making their last autumn growth,
pricked their spears and crisped their tuftings with the pearly purity.
The tenderness of their green appeared under the glaucous mantle; while
that grey suffusion, which is the blush of green life, spread its damask
chastity. Even then my soul was lifted, worried though my mind was: who
can see such large kind doings, and not be ashamed of human grief?

Not only unashamed of grief, but much abashed with joy, was I, when
I saw my Lorna coming, purer than the morning dew, than the sun more
bright and clear. That which made me love her so, that which lifted my
heart to her, as the Spring wind lifts the clouds, was the gayness of
her nature, and its inborn playfulness. And yet all this with maiden
shame, a conscious dream of things unknown, and a sense of fate about
them.

Down the valley still she came, not witting that I looked at her, having
ceased (through my own misprison) to expect me yet awhile; or at least
she told herself so. In the joy of awakened life and brightness of
the morning, she had cast all care away, and seemed to float upon the
sunrise, like a buoyant silver wave. Suddenly at sight of me, for I
leaped forth at once, in fear of seeming to watch her unawares, the
bloom upon her cheeks was deepened, and the radiance of her eyes; and
she came to meet me gladly.

'At last then, you are come, John. I thought you had forgotten me. I
could not make you understand--they have kept me prisoner every evening:
but come into my house; you are in danger here.'

Meanwhile I could not answer, being overcome with joy, but followed
to her little grotto, where I had been twice before. I knew that the
crowning moment of my life was coming--that Lorna would own her love for
me.

She made for awhile as if she dreamed not of the meaning of my gaze,
but tried to speak of other things, faltering now and then, and mantling
with a richer damask below her long eyelashes.

'This is not what I came to know,' I whis