"Well, my precious," I assured her, "all danger, doubt, despair, will soon be over. Locasto and the rest of them will be as shadows, never to haunt my little girl again. The Great, Black North will fade away, will dissolve into the land of sunshine and flowers and song. You will forget it."
"The Great Black North.—I will never forget it, and I will always bless it. It has given me my love, the best love in all the world."
"O my darling, my Life, I'll take you away from it all soon, soon. We'll go to my home, to Garry, to Mother. They will love you as I love you."
"I'm sure I will love them. What you have told me of them makes them seem very real to me. Will you not be ashamed of me?"
"I will be proud, proud of you, my girl."
Ah, would I not! I looked at that flower-like face the sunshine glorified so, the pretty, bright hair falling away from her low brow in little waves, the lily throat, the delicately patrician features, the proud poise of her head. Who would not have been proud of her? She awoke all that was divine in me. I looked as one might look on a vision, scarce able to believe it real.
Suddenly she pointed excitedly.
"Look, dear, look at the rainbow. Isn't it wonderful? Isn't it beautiful?"
I gazed in rapt admiration. Across the river a shower had fallen, and the clouds, clearing away abruptly, had left there a twin rainbow of matchless perfection. Its double arch was poised as accurately over the town as if it had been painted there. Each hoop was flawless in form, lovely in hue, tenderly luminous, exquisite in purity. Never had I seen the double iris so immaculate in colouring, and, with its bases resting on the river, it curved over the gold-born city like a frame of ethereal beauty.
"Does it not seem, dear, like an answer to our prayer, an omen of good hope, a promise for the future?"