The sunset, flaming on the windows of the west gable, kindled them into burning rose.

Amid the splendour he fancied Alice's fair face peeping archly down at him from the room.

The inspiration came then.

It should be her room; he would fit it up for her; and her picture should hang there.
He was all summer carrying out his plan.

Nobody must know or suspect, so he must go slowly and secretly.