The Romance of a Water-Lily. 117

 

“that same old fairy said that mortal love was
selfish, and surely I see now that it must be so. It
cannot be like the love I bear the flowers, for when
my lilies die I am sad, but she for whom thou didst
so wantonly pluck them would not have grieved
hadst thou died in the doing it.”

“ Ay, she would have grieved, methinks,” answered
Michael, sorely puzzled. “Mayhap one does not
always understand. But I do not think that love is
always selfish.”

The fairy looked at him, but his head was bowed
—he was deep in troubled thought. She looked at
him and he thought of Salome, but, lo! when he
raised his eyes again to see why she stayed her
avenging hand, it seemed to him that there had come
a change over her; it seemed to him as though she
had increased in stature, as though she were less
transparent than at first; it seemed to him as though
those wondrous green eyes pierced him through.
Was it thus that he was to die?

- He tried to drop his own gaze, and he could not,