“And even now, Dumiger, is this not the case?” said she, with a gentle smile.

“No, to your love I owe all, Marguerite,” he answered.  “It seemed to purify my feelings, to elevate my mind to the height of this vast argument—­until I knew you there was a link wanting in my life.  When I used to ponder on the marvelous love of the Infinite, which could work out this wondrous system, and give man the faculty and the desire of comprehending it, I felt that the mind contained capacities long concealed from its owner; I felt that even in this world there must be at some time a perfect revelation of perfect love to man, beyond that love of nature which is to be derived from the study of this world’s natural laws and those of the lights which rule it.  I was then unsatisfied, Marguerite, for there was a void in my heart which nothing could fill up; and I remember once meeting with a passage in a favorite author which said, that whosoever had a faculty or sensation unemployed could not be happy.  I was in that situation; but strange to say, absorbing as the passion of love is, when I once understood this great mystery I was better able to devote all my energies to science.  I had often heard it said, that a pure and holy affection is the purest and surest source of energy and greatness—­until I knew you, Marguerite, I gave no credit to the saying.”

“And this star, Dumiger, which is growing fainter and fainter?”

“It was the one evidence wanting to prove the accuracy of my calculations.  Look here, Marguerite,” and he rose from the table with weak and faltering steps, and drew back a curtain which was drawn across a corner of the small room.  There she saw a small clock of exquisite manufacture, a complicated mass of machinery—­so complicated that it would have looked like fabled labor to have even put it into motion, or regulated it when in motion.  “Look here,” continued Dumiger, “here is the result of two years’ toil.  I have already adapted these works to each other:  it is, as you may perceive, a representation of the heavenly bodies; but I could not satisfy myself that my own calculations were correct until I saw this star which I expected to rise as it has risen this morning.  Now, Marguerite, my best beloved, you have seen it burning brightly in that spot of the heavens, it is a pledge of our future love and of my great success—­I accept it with humility and gratitude.  Yes, now.  Marguerite, I will retire with you; a great fact has been accomplished.  If labor is virtuous, if to exercise the faculties be a part of the discipline of life, then, even if I die now, I have not lived unworthily, and my labor has not been wholly in vain.  What think you, my Marguerite?”

She looked her answer in those dark, speaking, lustrous eyes.  The greatness of his mind had passed to hers; the mysterious sympathy of kindred souls united them.  She was proud of him; and her eyes flashed lightning, and her cheek flushed deeply, as she replied—­