When　Mrs。　MacNairn　and　I　went　in　to　dress　for　dinner；　Hector　lingered　a　little　behind　us　because　the　silent　beauty　held　him。
  I　came　down　before　his　mother　did；　and　I　went　out　upon　the　terrace　again　because　I　saw　he　was　still　sitting　there。　　I　went　to　the　stone　balustrade　very　quietly　and　leaned　against　it　as　I　turned　to　look　at　him　and　speak。
  Then　I　stood　quite　still　and　looked　longfor　some　reason　not　startled；　not　anguished；　not　even　feeling　that　he　had　gone。　　He　was　more　beautiful　than　any　human　creature　I　had　ever　seen　before。　　But　It　had　happened　as　they　said　it　would。　　He　had　not　ceasedbut　something　else　had。　　Something　had　ceased。
  It　was　the　next　evening　before　I　came　out　on　the　terrace　again。　　The　day　had　been　more　exquisite　and　the　sunset　more　wonderful　than　before。　　Mrs。　MacNairn　was　sitting　by　her　son's　side　in　the　bedroom　whose　windows　looked　over　the　moor。　　I　am　not　going　to　say　one　word　of　what　had　come　between　the　two　sunsets。　　Mrs。　MacNairn　and　I　had　clungand　clung。　　We　had　promised　never　to　part　from　each　other。　　I　did　not　quite　know　why　I　went　out　on　the　terrace；　perhaps　it　was　because　I　had　always　loved　to　sit　or　stand　there。
  This　evening　I　stood　and　leaned　upon　the　balustrade；　looking　out　far；　far；　far　over　the　moor。　　I　stood　and　gazed　and　gazed。　　I　was　thinking　about　the　Secret　and　the　Hillside。　　I　was　very　quietas　quiet　as　the　twilight's　self。　　And　there　came　back　to　me　the　memory　of　what　Hector　had　said　as　we　stood　on　the　golden　patch　of　gorse　when　the　mist　had　for　a　moment　or　so　blown　aside；　what　he　had　said　of　man's　awakening；　and；　remembering　all　the　ages　of　childish；　useless　dread；　how　he　would　stand
  I　did　not　turn　suddenly；　but　slowly。　　I　was　not　startled　in　the　faintest　degree。　　He　stood　there　close　to　me　as　he　had　so　often　stood。
  And　he　stoodand　smiled。
  I　have　seen　him　many　times　since。　　I　shall　see　him　many　times　again。　　And　when　I　see　him　he　always　standsand　smiles。
  End