“The Fairy’s voice faltered as she turned away, and imprinted a kiss on the sleeper’s cheek.  Ada moved uneasily, but did not awake; and in the last glance that she gave to her charge was united the form of the spirit of Beauty, folding, in motionless silence, her radiant wings over the low couch.  The other shades had fled some brief time since, and, burying her face in her slight mantle, the beautiful Fairy faded slowly away in the moonlight.

“A brief time passed, and the baron had returned with his hero guest to the castle, and the beneficent being who had guarded Ada’s childhood, had been up and down the earth, cheering the sad, soothing the weary, and inspiring the fallen.

“Much had she seen of human suffering, yet many a great lesson had it taught her of the high destiny of mortals, and she winged her flight back to Ada’s couch, sanguine of her happiness.  The spirit of Beauty still floated above it, but the Fairy thought that the bright form had strangely lost its first etheriality.

“Fevered and restless, the sleeper tossed from side to side.  With trembling fear she drew near the low bed, and gazed fondly on the unconscious form.  Alas! there was no peace on that face now.  There was that which some deem lovelier than even beauty-passion; but to the pure Fairy the expression was terrible.

“‘My child, my child,’ cried she in agony, ’is this thy love?  Better had thine heart been crushed within thee, than that thou shouldst have given thyself up to it alone.  Thou hast an eternal soul, and thou hast loved without it; thou art feeding flames which will consume the feelings they have kindled.  Spirit, is this thy work?’

“‘Such is the love of mortals,’ answered the shade.  ’It is ever thus; the sensual objects are but emblems of the spirit union of another world; yet this is never seen at first, and every impetuous soul, rushing on the threshold of life, worships the symbol for the reality,—­the image for the god.  Fear not, Fairy, the flame dies, but the essence is not quenched; from the ashes of Passion springs the Phoenix of Love.  Ada will recover from this burning dream.’

“‘Never!’ cried the Fairy, ’if she yields her heart up to thoughts like these.  Thou art a fiend, Beauty,—­a betrayer.  Avaunt, thou most accursed, thou hast ruined my child.’

“And as she spoke, weeping bitterly, she averted her face from the shade.  All was still once more, and her grief slowly calming, the Fairy hoped she was now alone, until, raising her eyes, she saw the being, more radiant and glorious than ever, still guarding the sleeping girl.

“‘Fairy,’ said the shade, sadly, ’this is no fault of mine.  I have ever come to the human heart with thoughts pure as the bosom of the lily, and beautiful as paradise, but the nature of man degrades and enslaves me.  Thou sawest how my wings were soiled, and their light dimmed by the sin of even yon guileless girl, and, alas! thousands have lived to curse me and call me demon before thee.  Now, at thy bidding, I will leave Ada, and forever.  She will awake, but never again to that fine sympathy with nature, that exquisite perception of all high and holy things, I have first made her know.  She will awake still good, still true; but the visions of youth quenched suddenly, as these will have been, leave a fearful darkness for the future life.’