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157 STRAIT IS THE GATE

fearfulness which I used to feel in her, the tension of spirit which she used to fear in me, were already beginning to grow less. Alissa seemed younger than during my melancholy visit of the autumn, and I had never thought her prettier. I had not yet kissed her. Every evening I saw sparkling on her bodice the little amethyst cross, which she wore hanging from a gold chain round her neck. Hope sprang up again, confidently, in my breast . Hope, do I say? No! it was already certainty, and I thought I felt it too in Alissa; for I was so little doubtful of myself that I could no longer have any doubts of her. Little by little our talk grew bolder. “Alissa," I said to her one morning, when all the air breathed laughter and delight and our hearts were opening like the flowers,“ now that Juliette is happy, won't you let us too ... I spoke slowly, with my eyes fixed upon her; on a sudden she turned pale, so extraordinarily, that I could not finish my sentence. “Dear!” she began, without turning her eyes towards me,“ I feel happier with you than I thought it was possible to feel . . . but, believe me, we were not born for happiness." "What can the soul prefer to happiness?” I cried, impetuously. She whispered:

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