“Those whom god hath joined together, let no man put asunder!”

Then, with a surging, jubilant sound, like the sea in a storm, the music seemed to tread past in a measured march of stately harmony,—­and presently there was silence once more,—­the silence and sunshine of the morning pouring through the rose windows of the church and sparkling on the Cross above the Altar,—­the silence of a love made perfect,—­of twin souls made one!

And then Edris drew herself gently from her lover’s embrace and raised her head,—­putting her hand confidingly in his, a lovely smile played on her sweetly parted lips: 

“Take me, Theos,” she said softly, “Lead me,—­into the World!”

* * * * * *

Slowly the great side-doors of the Cathedral swung back on their hinges,—­and out on the steps in a glorious blaze of sunlight came Poet and Angel together.  The one, a man in the full prime of splendid and vigorous manhood,—­the other, a maiden, timid and sweet, robed in gray attire with a posy of white flowers at her throat.  A simple girl, and most distinctly human,—­the fresh, pure color reddened in her cheeks,—­the soft springtide wind fanned her gold hair, and the sunbeams seemed to dance about her in a bright revel of amaze and curiosity.  Her lustrous eyes dwelt on the busy Platz below with a vaguely compassionate wonder—­a look that suggested some far foreknowledge of things, that at the same time were strangely unfamiliar.  Hand in hand with her companion she stood,—­while he, holding her fast, drunk in the pureness of her beauty, the love-light of her glance, the holy radiance of her smile, till every sense in him was spiritualized anew by the passionate faith and reverence in his heart, the marvellous glory that had fallen upon his life, the nameless rapture that possessed his soul!—­To have knelt at her feet, and bowed his head before her in worshipping silence, would have been to follow the strongest impulse in him,—­but she had given him a higher duty than this.  He was to “Lead her,”—­lead her “into the world!”—­the dreary, dark world, so unfitted to receive such brightness,—­she had come to him clad in all the sacred weakness of womanhood; and it was his proud privilege to guard and shelter her from evil,—­ from the evil in others, but chiefly from the evil in himself.  No taint must touch that spotless life with which God had entrusted him!—­sorrow might come—­nay, must come, since, so long as humanity errs, so long must angels grieve,—­sorrow, but not sin!  A grand, awed sense of responsibility filled him,—­a responsibility that he accepted with passionate gratitude and joy ... he had attained a vaster dignity than any king on any throne, ... and all the visible Universe was transfigured into a golden pageant of loveliness and light, fairer than the fabled Valley of Avilion!