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Updated: May 19, 2025
"There, mother, is the story of my Dream-Love, as I call her. Read it, and if you should wish to know anything further regarding it, ask my father, for he knows all." The following day when Darrell entered his mother's rooms he found her with his journal lying open before her. Looking up with a smile, she said,
That was enough; in that one glance the memory of his love returned to him like an overwhelming flood. She was no longer his Dream-Love, but a splendid, living reality, only more beautiful than his dreams or his imagination had portrayed her. He stretched out his arms towards her with the one word, "Kathie!"
He knew her for his dream-love, sweet and true and fine; and he stepped out of the shadow and knelt before her, raising the hem of her cloak to his lips. "Most gentle lady, will you give a beggar alms?" he said with tender lightness. The sound of his voice was like a stone cast into still water. The rapt peace of her look was broken into an eddy of conflicting emotions.
She, the fleeting and impalpable dream-love, whom the thought of seeing ever again had been wildly absurd, was now a human creature with a local habitation, the most beautiful name in the world, and two parents whose complaisance was obvious even through the lover's timidity. Up Skiplap Canon The meal was ending in smoke, the women, excepting Miss Milbrey, having lighted cigarettes with the men.
Darrell's love for Kate was a reality, but her personality, so far as he could recall it, was little more than a dream; each letter revealed some unexpected phase of her character; he found their correspondence an unfailing source of pleasure, and was content to await the time of their meeting, confident that he would find the real woman all and more than the ideal which he fondly cherished as his Dream-Love.
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