My thoughts wandered backward once more, and showed me another picture in the golden gallery of the past.
The garden at the Vicarage formed the new scene.

The time was night.

We had met together in secret.

We were walking slowly to and fro, out of sight of the house, now in the shadowy paths of the shrubbery, now in the lovely moonlight on the open lawn.
We had long since owned our love and devoted our lives to each other.
Already our interests were one; already we shared the pleasures and the pains of life.

I had gone out to meet him that night with a heavy heart, to seek comfort in his presence and to find encouragement in his voice.
He noticed that I sighed when he first took me in his arms, and he gently turned my head toward the moonlight to read my trouble in my face.