est of terms. Decidedly, this was the right breed of angel
for us. None of your sick-bed or night nursery business for them!

Well, no doubt they were now being married, He and She, just as always
happened. And then, of course, they were going to live happily ever
after; and that was the part I wanted to get to. Storybooks were so
stupid, always stopping at the point where they became really nice; but
this picture-story was only in its first chapters, and at last I was to
have a chance of knowing how people lived happily ever after. We
would all go home together, He and She, and the angels, and I; and the
armour-man would be invited to come and stay. And then the story would
really begin, at the point where those other ones always left off. I
turned the page, and found myself free of the dim and splendid church
and once more in the open country.

This was all right; this was just as it should be. The sky was a
fleckless blue, the flags danced in the breeze, and our merry bridal
party, with jest and laughter, jogged down to the water-side. I was
through the town by this time, and out on the other side of the hill,
where I had always wanted to be; and, sure enough, there was the
harbour, all thick with curly ships. Most of them were piled high
with wedding-presents--bales of silk, and gold and silver plate, and
comfortable-looking bags suggesting bullion; and the gayest ship of
all lay close up to the carpeted landing-stage. Already the bride was
stepping daintily down the gangway, her ladies following primly, one by
one; a few minutes more and we should all be aboard, the hawsers would
splash in the water, the sails would fill and strain. From the deck I
should see the little walled town recede and sink and grow dim, while
every plunge of our bows brought us nearer to the happy island--it
was an island we were bound for, I knew well! Already I could see the
island-people waving hands on the crowded quay, whence the little
houses ran up the hill to the castle, crowning all with its towers and
battlements. Once more we should ride together, a merry procession,
clattering up the steep street and through the grim gateway; and then
we should have arrived, then we should all dine together, then we should
have reached home! And then--Ow! Ow! Ow!

Bitter it is to stumble out of an opalescent dream into the cold
daylight; cruel to lose in a second a sea-voyage, an island, and a
castle that was to be practically your own; but cr