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the same time； I want to write of them； for they are beautiful and solemn； and good food for the heart。
Besides； though my pilgrimage had been ended so long； they are really a part； yea； the part for which； though I knew it not； all the rest has been writtenfor they tell how I came to find by accident her whom so long I had sought of design。
How shall I tell of Thee who； first and last of all women； gave and awoke in me that love which is the golden key of the world； the mystic revelation of the holy meaning of life； love that alone may pass through the awful gates of the stars； and gaze unafraid into the blue abysses beyond？
Ah！ Love； it seemed far away indeed from the stars； the place where we met； and only by the light of love's eyes might we have found each otheras only by the light of love's eyes 。 。 。 But enough； my Heart； the world waits to hear our story；the world once so unloving to you； the world with a heart so hard and anon so soft for love。 When the story is ended； my love； when the story is ended
CHAPTER II
GRACE O' GOD
It was a hard winter's night four years ago； lovely and merciless； and towards midnight I walked home from a theatre to my rooms in St。 James's Street。 The Venusberg of Piccadilly looked white as a nun with snow and moonlight； but the melancholy music of pleasure； and the sad daughters of joy； seemed not to heed the cold。 For another hour death and pleasure would dance there beneath the electric lights。
Through the strange women clustering at the corners I took my way；women of the Moabites； Ammonites； Edomites； Zidonians； and Hittites；and I thought； as I looked into their poor painted faces；faces but half human； vampirish faces； faces already waxen with the look of the grave；I thought； as I often did； of the poor little girl whom De Quincey loved； the good…hearted little ‘peripatetic' as he called her； who had succoured him during those nights； when； as a young man； he wandered homeless about these very streets；that good； kind little Ann whom De Quincey had loved； then so strangely lost； and for whose face he looked into women's faces as long as he lived。 Often have I stood at the corner of Titchfield Street； and thought how De Quincey had stood there night after night waiting for her to come； but all in vain； and how from the abyss of oblivion into which some cruel chance had swept her； not one cry from her ever reached him again。
I thought； too； as I often did； what if the face I seek should be here among these poor outcasts；golden face hidden behind a mask of shame； true heart still beating true even amidst this infernal world！
Thus musing； I had walked my way out of the throng； and only a figure here and there in the shadows of doorways waited and waited in the cold。
It was something about one of these waiting figures；some movement； some chance posture；that presently surprised my attention and awakened a sudden sense of half recognition。 She stood well in the shadow； seeming rather to shrink from than to court attention。 As I walked close by her and looked keenly into her face； she cast down her eyes and half turned away。 Surely； I had seen that tall； noble figure somewhere before； that haughty head； and then with the apparition a thought struck mebut； no！ it couldn't be she！ not HERE！
〃It is；〃 said my soul； as I turned and walked past her again； 〃you missed her once； are you going to miss her again？〃
〃It is；〃 said my eyes； as they swept her for the third time； 〃but she had glorious chestnut hair； and the hair of this woman isgilded。〃
〃It is she；〃 said my heart； 〃thank God； it is she！〃
So it was that I went up to that tall； shy figure。
〃It must be very cold here；〃 I said； 〃will you not join me in some supper？〃
She assented； and we sought one of the many radiating centres of festivity in the neighbourhood。 She was very tired and cold； so tired she seemed hardly to have the spirit to eat； and evidently the cold had taken tight clutch of her lungs； for she had a cough that went to my heart to hear； and her face was ghastly pale。 When I had persuaded her to drink a little wine； she grew more animated and spots of suspicious colour came into her cheeks。 So far she had seemed all but oblivious of my presence； but now she gave me a sweet smile of gratitude； one of those irradiating transfiguring smiles that change the whole face； and belong to few faces； the heavenly smile of a pure soul。
Yes； it was she！ The woman who sat in front of me was the woman whom I had met so strangely that day on that solitary moorland； and whom in prophecy still more strange my soul had declared to be； 〃now and for ever and before all worlds the woman God had created for me； and that unless I could be hers and she mine； there could be no home； no peace； for either of us so long as we lived〃 and now so strangely met again。
Yes； it was she！
For the moment my mind had room for no other thought。 I cared not to conjecture by what devious ways God had brought her to my side。 I cared not what mire her feet had trodden。 She had carried her face pure as a lily through all the foul and sooty air。 There was a pure heart in her voice。 Sin is of the soul； and this soul had not sinned！ Let him that is without sin amongst you cast the first stone。
〃Why did you dye that wonderful chestnut hair？〃 I asked her presentlyand was sorry next minute for the pain that shot across her face； but I just wanted to hint at what I designed not to reveal fully till later on； and thus to hint too that it was not as one of the number of her defilers that I had sought her。
〃Why；〃 she said； 〃how do you know the colour of my hair？ We have never met before。〃
〃Yes； we have；〃 I said； 〃and that was why I spoke to you to…night。 I'll tell you where it was another time。〃
But after all I could not desist from telling her that night； for； as afterwards at her lodging we sat over the fire； talking as if we had known each other all our lives； there seemed no reason for an arbitrary delay。
I described to her the solitary moorland road； and the grey…gowned woman's figure in front of me； and the gig coming along to meet her； and the salutation of the two girls； and I told her all one look of her face had meant for me； and how I had wildly sought her in vain； and from that day to this had held her image in my heart。
And as I told her； she sobbed with her head against my knees and her great hair filling my lap with gold。 In broken words she drew for me the other side of the picture of that long…past summer day。
Yes； the girl in the gig was her sister； and they were the only daughters of a farmer who had been rich once； but had come to ruin by drink and misfortune。 They had been brought up from girls by an old grandmother； with whom the sister was living at the time of my seeing them。 Yes； Tom was her husband。 He was a doctor in the neighbourhood when he married her； and a man； I surmised； of some parts and promise； but； moving to town； he had fallen into loose ways； taken to drinking and gambling； and had finally deserted her for another womanat the very moment when their first child was born。 The child died 〃Thank God！〃 she added with sudden vehemence； and 〃Iwell； you w