Nothing was very wide-awake as yet; all life stirred as though beneath a
film; a dim blue coverlet still lay lightly over the wood; the earth
held her breath for the moment of birth. What a waiting, what a wide
clear sense of certain expectation! The sky, naked of clouds, had become
a brightening sphere of pearliness; a deep rose gathered over the hills
and spread fanlike, licking up the ashen pallor with stabs of flame. A
livid red-gold rim sprang into being behind the hill crests, and slowly
and in state the sun swam up the molten sky. He turned to Blanche with
the tears in his eyes.

"Dearest, the sun has risen!" He drew her face to his and kissed her,
not as before, but with the sense of consummating a sacrament. She rose
to her feet a little unsteadily, and they set their faces towards
Paradise cottage.

"You must get some rest," he said; "it's only half-past four now."

The exaltation of the dawn had left her, and she quickened her steps,
wondering uneasily what her skin looked like unaided in this dazzling
light. She slipped noiselessly into the house by the front door, which
she barred behind her; the clatter of hobnails from the little yard told
that Billy was already about his business, but behind Mrs. Penticost's
door all was quiet. With her finger to her lips Blanche leaned from her
window and breathed "Good-night" and disappeared into the shadows.




CHAPTER XII