closed red tips, like the
finger-points of two fairy hands, tenderly joined together, pointed up
in little cones to keep the yellow stars warm within, that they might
shine bright when the great star of day came to look for them. The
light of the down-gone sun, the garment of Aurora, which, so short
would be her rest, she had not drawn close around her on her couch,
floated up on the horizon, and swept slowly northwards, lightly upborne
on that pale sea of delicate green and gold, to flicker all night
around the northern coast of the sky, and, streaming up in the heavens,
melt at last in the glory of the uprisen Titan. The trees stood still
and shadowy as clouds, but breathing out mysterious odours. The stars
overhead, half-molten away in the ghostly light that would not go, were
yet busy at their night-work, ministering to the dark sides of the
other worlds. There was no moon. A wide stillness and , as of a
 at rest, filled space, and lying upon the human  with a
persistent  that might be felt, made them know what _might_ be
theirs. Now and then a bird sprang out with a sudden tremor of leaves,
suddenly stilled. But the bats came and went