And as the last clear mellow notes fell on the children's ears, a sound of wings seemed to come with them, and gazing ever more intently towards the island they saw rising upwards the pure white snow-like bird--upwards and upwards, ever higher, till at last, with the sound of its own joyous song, it faded and melted into the opal radiance of the calm sky above.
For long the children gazed after it--a spot of light seemed to linger for some time in the sky just where it had disappeared--almost, to their fancy, as if the white swan was resting there, again to return to earth.
But it was not so.

Slowly, like the light of a dying star, the brightness faded; there was no longer a trace of the swan's radiant flight; again a soft low breeze, like a farewell sigh, fluttered across the lake, and the children withdrew their eyes from the sky and looked at each other.
"Jeanne!" said Hugh.
"Cheri!" said Jeanne.
"What was it?
Was it not an angel, and not a swan ?" Jeanne shook her little head in perplexity.
"I don't know," she said.

"It was wonderful.

Did you hear all it told, Cheri ?" "Yes," said Hugh.

"But no one could ever tell it again, Jeanne.