As she entered the bower, and turned to speak to him, the moonlight fell full upon her figure.

"What a pretty little witch you are!" he exclaimed.
"My Lily Bell, my precious pearl, my sylph! You look like a spirit just floated down from the moon." "All moonshine!" replied she, with a smile.
He kissed the saucy lips, and the vines which had witnessed other caresses in that same bower, a few months earlier, whispered to each other, but told no tales.

She leaned her head upon his bosom, and looking out upon the winding walks of the garden, so fair and peaceful in sheen and shadow, she said that her new home was more beautiful than she had dreamed.

"Hark!" said she, raising her head suddenly, and listening.

"I thought I heard a sigh." "It was only the wind among the vines," he replied.