"'What did everybody know then?'
"'That she might have been kissing a living child, when she followed a dead one to the grave.—The next will fare better.'
"'I put a stop to a wedding,' said another.
"'Horrid shade!' remarked a poetic imp.
"'How?' said others. 'Tell us how.'
"'Only by throwing a darkness, as if from the branch of a sconce, over the forehead of a fair girl.—They are not married yet, and I do not think they will be. But I loved the youth who loved her. How he started! It was a revelation to him.'
"'But did it not deceive him?'
"'Quite the contrary.'
"'But it was only a shadow from the outside, not a shadow coming through from the soul of the girl.'
"'Yes. You may say so. But it was all that was wanted to let the meaning of her forehead come out—yes, of her whole face, which had now and then, in the pauses of his passion, perplexed the youth. All of it, curled nostrils, pouting lips, projecting chin, instantly fell into harmony with that darkness between her eyebrows. The youth understood it in a moment, and went home miserable. And they're not married yet.'