The girl's loose hair flowed like black silk over the pillow; his head was resting there.
They held each other's hands and looked deep into each other's eyes. The Spirit of Joy had stood there long, but had not heard them speak a word—only seen them lying there in silence, smiling tenderly to each other.
The sun rose slowly over the ridge of hills, but once clear of the summit, its rays shot suddenly down across the intervening landscape, in through the window.
The girl looked up; the sun was laughing full in her eyes.
She sat up in bed, as if waking from a deep sleep; all things seemed strange and unexpected.
"Has the sun eyes too, I wonder?… Has it been watching me all these mornings?"…
* * * * *
After a little while she raised her head, and looked up shyly once more.
The sun was watching her with a great questioning glance—as a mother looks when she does not speak, but questions with her eyes alone.
The girl felt a shock, as if the blood had ceased to flow in her veins; she cast down her eyes, and looked up no more. Two great pearly tears quivered on her lashes.