heaven. The air was not oppressive, and it was scented with the
perfume of the lilacs and apple-blossoms, so that Gorham was fain
every now and then to draw a deep breath in order to inhale their
fragrance. There was no dust, and nature looked spruce and trig,
without a taint of the frowziness which is observable in the foliage a
month later.

Gorham took very little notice of the details; his eyes were busy
rather with mind-problems than with the particular beauties of the
night; yet his rapt gaze swept the brilliant heavens as though he felt
their lustre to be in harmony with the radiance in his own soul. He
was imagining the future--his hearth forever blessed by her sweet
presence, their mutual joys and sorrows sweetened and alleviated
through being shared. His efforts to live worthily would be fortified
by her example and counsel. How the pleasures of walking and riding
and reading and travelling--of everything in life--would be a
hundredfold enhanced by being able to interchange impressions with
each other! He pictured to himself the cosey evenings they would pass
at home when the day's work was done, and the jolly trips they would
take together when vacation-time arrived. How he would watch over her,
and how he would guard her and tend her and comfort her if misfortune
came or ill health assailed her! There would be little ones, perhaps,
to claim their joint devotion, and bid him redouble his energies; he
smiled at the thought of baby fingers about his neck, and there arose
to his mind's eye a sweet vision of Emily sitting, pale but
triumphant, rocking her new-born child upon her breast.

He walked swiftly on the wings of transport. It was almost as light as
day, yet he met but few travellers along the country road. An
occasional vehicle passed him, breaking the silvery stillness with its