It was fresh under the trees at Rockedge,
for there had come no sun, even in the
morning. To Cecilia it had ever been like
entering Eden, until this night And those
who are conscious of a destiny to endure, as
she believed herself, should surely fling into
the counterbalance the fact that they are
better able to endure suffering than satisfac-
tion : the soul that meets its agony in all its
strength, faints utterly in its delight, is pros-
trate before beauty. The sylvan stillness of
the fair enclosure, the whole fairj'land a
flush of roses : these might have been borne
alone ; but Bernard's face was at the door,
looking seawards, and its very shape aroused
the spell of insufferable and unconquerable
melancholy.
But Rare : — a certain poet has taught us,
that melancholy veils her " too bright saintly
visage : " it was surely meant to *' hit the
sense of human eyes " that hour. Ever mel-
ancholy, he was so radiant, even in his gaze
distraught, that Cecilia shuddered to disturb
him, lest the veil should fall aorain at her
coming, and her presence overcloud his sky.
Never had she been so surprised as to see his
look of recoOTiition, earnest, open, free. He
ran down tlie step to the garden, ran as
though he would run over Tier, along the
walk, and held out both his hands.
