Somehow the first girl had vanished but she had left behind in his heart a susceptibility to a form and face like this one beside him.

Julia had come into his heart, not to dwell there, but to purify it, adorn it, and to make it ready for someone else;--and that other person had come.

She filled the sanctuary of his heart.

Peace and love beyond the telling were inmates with her.

Had he not come to his own at last.
That afternoon, as he sat with Lucy under the trees at Blarney, listening to her story, told in simplicity with eyes alternating between smiles and tears, he felt so near heaven that his prayers went easily ahead of him to the throne of mercy and love, bearing a message of praise and gratitude to the Giver of all good.
These two were quite alone that afternoon.