She has become his Lady of Mystery once more; for the love of a noble-hearted woman is a perpetual cause of wonderment to the man upon whom its richness is outpoured; nor does he ever cease to marvel, in his secret heart, that he should be the object upon which such an abandonment of tenderness is lavished.
And before the second Epiphany came round, that most wonderful of all moments in a man's life had come to David:—the moment when he first sees a small replica of himself, held tenderly in the arms of the woman he loves; when the spirit of a man new-born, looks out at him from baby eyes; when he shares his wife's love with another; yet loves to share it.
Thus, more than ever, on that occasion, was the gracious woman, wrapped in soft furs, seated beside the old stone pillar, his Lady of Mystery. Yet, as she lifted her sweet eyes to his, expectant, they were the faithful, comprehending eyes of his wife, Diana; and they seemed to say: "I am waiting. I have come for this."
Instantly the sense of inspiration filled him. With glad assurance, he gave out his text, and read the passage; conscious, as he read it, that he knew more of its full meaning than he had known when he preached upon it from that pulpit, four years before:
"When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.... And when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto Him gifts—gold, and frankincense, and myrrh."
Diana, in her motor, awaited David, outside the old lich-gate.
As he sprang in beside her, and the car glided off swiftly over the snow, she turned to him, her grey eyes soft with tender memories.
"And when they had offered their gifts, David," she said; "when the gold, and the frankincense, and the myrrh had each been accepted—what then?"
"What then?" he answered, as his hand found hers upon her muff, while into his face came the look of complete content she so loved to see: "Why then—they went home, by another way."