"Must I bide here alone, sweet wife?"
"But indeed I will—call thee anon, my lord."
"Nay, first—look at me, my Helen!"
Slowly, slowly she lifted her head and looked on him all sweet and languorous-eyed.
"Aye, truly—truly thine eyes are not—a nun's eyes, Helen. So will I wait thy bidding." So he loosed her and she, looking on him no more, turned and hasted into the further chamber.
And after some while she called to him very soft and sweet, and he, trembling, arose and entered the chamber, dim-lighted and fragrant.
But now, beholding wherefore she had left him, his breath caught and he stood as one entranced, nor moved, nor spake he a while.
"O Helen!" he murmured at last, "thou art glorious so—and with thy long hair—"
But now, even as he came to her, the Duchess Helen put out the little silver lamp. But in the moonlit dusk she gave her lips to his, and her tender arms were close about him.
"Beltane," she whispered 'neath his kiss, "dear my lord and husband, here is an end at last of sorrow and heart-break, I pray."