s for both spring
from the same need.

"What place is that in the trees?" she asked.

"The old Castle of Glamerton," answered Alec. "Would you like to go and
see it?"

"Yes; very much."

"We'll go to-morrow, then."

"The dew is beginning to fall, Kate," said Mrs Forbes, who now joined
them. "You had better come in."

Alec lingered behind. An unknown emotion drew his heart towards the
earth. He would see her go to sleep in the twilight, which was now
beginning to brood over her, as with the brown wings of a lovely
dull-hued hen-bird. The daisies were all asleep, spotting the green
grass with stars of carmine; for their closed red tips, like the
finger-points of two fairy hands, tenderly joined together, pointed up
in little cones to keep the yellow stars warm within, that they might
shine bright when the great star of day came to look for them. The
light of the down-gone sun, the garment of Aurora, which, so short
would be her rest, she had not drawn close around her on her couch,
floated up on the horizon, and swept slowly northwards, lightly upborne
on that pale sea of delicate green and gold, to flicker all night
around the northern coast of the sky, and, streaming up in the heavens,
melt at last in the glory of the uprisen Titan. The trees stood still
and shadowy as clouds, but breathing out mysterious odours. The stars
overhead, half-molten away in the ghostly light that would not go, were
yet busy at their night-work, ministering to the dark sides of the
other worlds. There was no moon. A wide stillness and peace, as of a
heart at rest, filled space, and lying upon the human souls with a
persistent quietness that might be felt, made them know what _might_ be
theirs. Now and then a bird sprang out with a sudden tremor of leaves,
suddenly stilled. But the bats came and went in silence, like feelings
yet unembodied in thoughts, vanishing before the sight had time to be
startled at their appearing. All was marvel. And the marvel of all was
there--where the light glimmered faintly through the foliage. He
approached the house with an awe akin to that with which an old poetic
Egyptian drew near to the chamber of the goddess Isis.

He entered, and his Isis was laughing merrily.

In the morning, great sun-crested clouds with dark sides hung overhead;
and while they sat at breakfast, one of those glorious showers, each of
whose great drops carries a sun-spark in its heart, fell on the walks
with a tumult of gentle