It had been suddenly touched with a wand into an enchanted permanence.

Theosophists tell of an astral light, where every moment of time endures in strange paintings upon space.

Isabel and Theophil and Jenny were sitting together in the astral light.
And yet the hours had already been flying, for, the recital was already over,--New Zion more in love with Isabel than ever.

The same little supper as six months ago had been merry and come to an end, the guests had gone, the house was quiet, and this hour that seemed so real was the frail last of that day of dreams.
Yes! but an arrangement had been made which perhaps accounts for the security of that hour.

Isabel's agents had planned for her a little circular tour in northern towns comparatively adjacent to Coalchester, and when a fortnight of such recitals was ended, she was to return and give still another recital at New Zion.