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Updated: July 6, 2025
Look where you are to live." "Which is your room, Richard?" He points it out to her. "O Richard! that I were one of the women who wait on you! I should ask nothing more. How happy she must be!" "My darling angel-love. You shall be happy; but all shall wait on you, and I foremost, Lucy." "Dearest! may I hope for a letter?" "By eleven to-morrow. And I?" "Oh! you will have mine, Richard."
"Edris ... !" he whispered hoarsely "Edris! ... My Angel-love! ... come back! Come back ... pity me! ... forgive! ... Edris!"
As he spoke the words his eyes caught a glimpse of something white on the turf where, but a moment since, his Angel-love had stood, he stooped toward it, . . it was one half-opened bud of the wonderful "Ardath-flowers" that had covered the field in such singular profusion on the previous night when she first appeared. One only! ... might he not gather it?
Alwyn had received his remarks with the most perfect sweetness and equanimity, but, all the same, had remained unchanged in his opinion as to the REALITY of his betrothal to his Angel-love in Heaven. And one or two points had certainly baffled Villiers, and perplexed him in his would-be precise analysis of the circumstances: first, there was the remarkable change in Alwyn's own nature.
Look where you are to live." "Which is your room, Richard?" He points it out to her. "O Richard! that I were one of the women who wait on you! I should ask nothing more. How happy she must be!" "My darling angel-love. You shall be happy; but all shall wait on you, and I foremost, Lucy." "Dearest! may I hope for a letter?" "By eleven to-morrow. And I?" "Oh! you will have mine, Richard."
How if she were a wingless angel, made woman? "Glory is thine, and gladness, and the wings!" And with the name of his angel-love upon his lips he closed his eyes and sank into a deep and dreamless slumber. A booming, thunderous, yet mellow sound! a grand, solemn, sonorous swing of full and weighty rhythm, striking the air with deep, slowly measured resonance like the rolling of close cannon!
Rather let me strive to be glad that she, my angel-love, is so far removed from my unworthiness, let her, if she be near me now, read my thoughts, and see in them how dear, how sacred is her fair and glorious memory, how I would rather endure an eternity of anguish, than make her sad for one brief hour of mortal-counted time!"
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