"But that will fatigue you very much,—-cannot you prevent it? One ought to be quiet before a great excitement."
"Oh! you have found that. I cannot be quiet until afterwards."
"I have never had a great excitement," said Clara, innocently; "and I hope I never may. It suits me to be still."
"May that calm remain in you and for you with which you never fail to heal the soul within your power, Miss Benette!"
"I should indeed be proud, Mr. Auchester, to keep you quiet; but that you will never be until it is forever."
"In that sense no one could, for who could ever desire to awaken from that rest? And from all rest here it is but to awaken."
I felt I ought to go, or that I might even remain too long. It was harder at that moment to leave her than it had ever been before; but I had a prescience that for that very reason it was better to depart. Starwood had returned, I found, and was waiting about in the evening, before the candles came.
We both watched the golden shade that bound the sunset to its crimson glow, and then the violet dark, as it melted downwards to embrace the earth. We were both silent, Starwood from habit (I have never seen such power of abstraction), I by choice. An agitated knock came suddenly, about nine, and into the room bounced the big dog, tearing the carpet up with his capers. Seraphael followed, silent at first as we; he stole after us to the window, and looked softly forth. I could tell even in the uncertain silver darkness of that thinnest shell of a moon that his face was alight with happiness, an ineffable gentleness,—-not the dread alien air of heaven, soothing the passion of his countenance. He laid for long his tiny hand upon my shoulder, his arm crept round my neck, and drawing closer still, he sighed rather than said, after a thrilling pause,—
"Carlomein, wilt thou come into my room? I have a secret for thee; it will not take long to tell."
"The longer the better, sir."