Awaking from this dream, I looked up the wall of the cliff to enjoy
one more sight of the magical beauty, when there fell upon my eyes,
or seemed to fall, a sight that, though I felt it must be a delusion,
took away my breath. Standing on a piece of rock that was flush with
one of the steps by which I had descended was a slender girlish
figure, so lissom that it might have been the famous 'Queen of the
Fair People.'
'Never,' I said to myself, 'was there an optical illusion so perfect.
I can see the moonlight playing upon her hair. But the hair is not
golden, as the hair of the Queen of the Tylwyth Teg should be; it is
dark as Winnie's own.'
Then the face turned and she looked at the river, and then I
exclaimed 'Winifred!' And then Fairy Glen vanished and I was at
Raxton standing by a cottage door in the moonlight. I was listening
to a voice--that one voice to whose music every chord of life within
me was set for ever, which said,
'I should have to come in the winds, and play around you on the
sands. I should have to peep over the clouds and watch you.
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