Gently Aloysius laid his hand on her bent head.

"It will be indeed a martyrdom!" he said, slowly, "Long and torturing! Think well of it!--a woman, youthful and beautiful, chained to a mere breathing image of man,--a creature who cannot recognise either persons or objects, who is helpless to move, and who will remain in that pitiable state all his life, if he lives!--dear child, are you convinced there is no other way?"

"Not for her!" Morgana replied--"She has set her soul to try if God will help her to restore him,--she will surround him with the constant influence of a perfectly devoted love. Dare we say there shall be no healing power in such an influence?--we who know so much of which the world is ignorant!"

He stroked her shining hair with a careful tenderness as one might stroke the soft plumage of a bird.

"And you?" he said, in a low tone--"What of you?"

She raised her eyes to his. A light of heaven's own radiance shone in those blue orbs--an angelic peace beyond all expression.

"What should there be of me except the dream come true?" she responded, smiling--"You know my plans,--you also know my destiny, for I have told you everything! You will be the controller of all my wealth, entrusted to carry out all my wishes, till it is time either for you to come where I am, or for me to return hither. We never know how or when that may be. But it has all seemed plain sailing for me since I saw the city called 'Brazen' but which WE know is Golden!--and when I found that you belonged to it, and were only stationed here for a short time, I knew I could give you my entire confidence. It is not as if we were of the passing world or its ways--we are of the New Race, and time does not count with us."