He thought he had never seen so radiant a face. What disguise had fallen? And looking at her, he strove to discover the woman who had denied him so often. This new woman seemed made all of light and love and transport, the woman of all his divinations, the being the old photograph in the old music-room had warned him of, the being that the voice of his destiny had told him he was to meet. And as they stood by the fireplace looking into each other's eyes, he gradually became aware of his happiness. It broke in his heart with a thrill and shiver like an exquisite dawn, opal and rose; the brilliancy of her eyes, the rapture of her face, the magnetic stirring of the little gold curls along her forehead were so wonderful that he feared her as an enchanter fears the spirit he has raised. Like one who has suddenly chanced on the hilltop, he gazed on the prospect, believing it all to be his. They stood gazing into each other's eyes too eager to speak, and when she called his name he remembered the legended forest, and replied with the song of the bird that leads Siegfried to Brunnhilde. She laughed, and sang the next two bars, and then seemed to forget everything.
"Dearest, of what are you thinking?"
"Only if I ever shall kiss you again, Ulick."
"You will always kiss me!"
She did not answer, and, frightened by her irresponsive eyes, he said—
"But, Evelyn, you must love me, me—only me; you will never see him again?"
She did not answer, and when he spoke, his voice trembled.
"But it is impossible you can ever marry him now."
"I am not going to marry Owen."
"You told him so the other night?"