THE RAINBOW BOOK
puzzled her, that it was addressed to her sister. She awoke, and instantly remembered that Little Love had really kissed her hand that evening, to her great surprise. She sat up in bed listening, for she fancied she heard her sister call. Becoming anxious for her comfort, she rose, and went gently in to her. It was quiet in the dimly lighted chamber. The invalid lay softly sleeping, her face all bandaged, and her glorious hair a mass of gold about the pillow. Under her hand was an open letter. Tempted by the influence of her dream, Christobel drew nearer. It was Prince Olivin's firm writing—there were only a few lines, and the moonlight shone full upon them. She could not help reading:—
" Beloved ! Think not to release me. It is your sweet nature I love. You. Your beautiful mind. Nothing could ever change them ! Olivin."
Was it joy for her sister ? was it some gleam of an unknown sense of peace, tenderness, and hope in her soul, that brought scalding tears to Christobel's eyes as, half blinded by them, she groped her way back to her room, where she fell on her knees and cried softly, and prayed that, now through her tears her eyes had been opened, she might learn to become different ? " Beauty is not everything, then!" she repeated wonderingly to