Towards the former I strained my eyes longingly for a glimpse even of her shadow.

How long I waited I knew not--it might have been a minute or an hour--but presently she came, her figure, more womanly than when I last saw it, dark against the light within, and her hair falling in waves upon her shoulder.

She stood for a moment at the closed window, then opened it and looked out.

The night was cold and dark; but she braved it, and sat humming a tune, her hand playing with the ivy that crept up to the window-sill.
The air was one I knew.

Many a time had she crooned it in the old days as I rowed her in the boat.