Her eyes were gazing into his, and
again, as if by magic, the curtain of life's stage was drawn together
in misty folds, shutting out the past, the present, and the future, the
fact, the doubt, and the hope, in an interval of perfect peace.
He was roused by the sound of a light footfall upon the marble pavement.
Unorna's eyes were turned from his, and with something like a movement
of surprise he himself looked towards the new comer. A young girl was
standing under the shadow of a great letonia at a short distance from
him. She was very pale indeed, but not with that death-like, waxen
pallor which had chilled him when he had looked upon that other face.
There was a faint resemblance in the small, aquiline features, the dress
was black, and the figure of the girl before him was assuredly neither
much taller nor much shorter than that of the woman he loved and sought.
But the likeness went no further, and he knew that he had been utterly
mistaken.
Unorna exchanged a few indifferent words with Axenia and dismissed her.
"You have seen," she said, when the young girl was gone. "Was it she who
entered the house just now?"
"Yes. I was misled by a mere resemblance. Forgive me for my
importunity--let me thank you most sincerely for your great kindness."
He rose as he spoke.
"Do not go," said Unorna, looking at him earnestly.
He stood still, silent, as though his attitude should explain itself,
and yet expecting that she would say something further.
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