He had never avoided her grave as others of his tribe did . He loved the spot , and he believed that some time he would see Isabel Temple there . She came , so the story went , to one in each generation of the family . He gazed down at her sunken grave ; a little wind , that came stealing along the floor of the grove , raised and swayed the long , hair-like grass on it , giving the curious suggestion of something prisoned under it trying to draw a long breath and float upward . Then , when he lifted his eyes again , he saw her ! She was standing behind the gravestone , under the cherry tree , whose long white branches touched her head ; standing there , with her head drooping a little , but looking steadily at him . It was just between dusk and dark now , but he saw her very plainly . She was dressed in white , with some filmy scarf over her head , and her hair hung in a dark heavy braid over her shoulder . Her face was small and ivory-white , and her eyes were very large and dark . Roger looked straight into them and they did something to him -- drew something out of him that was never to be his again -- his heart ? his soul ? He did not know . He only knew that lovely Isabel Temple had now come to him and that he was hers forever . For a few moments that seemed years he looked at her -- looked till the lure of her eyes drew him to his feet as a man rises in sleep-walking . As he slowly stood up , the low-hanging bough of a fir tree pushed his cap down over his face and blinded him . When he snatched it off , she was gone . * * * * * Roger Temple did not go home that night till the spring dawn was in the sky . Catherine was sleepless with anxiety about him . When she heard him come up the stairs , she opened her door and peeped out . Roger went along the hall without seeing her .
His brilliant eyes stared straight before him , and there was something XXXXX his face that made Catherine steal back to her bed with a little shiver of fear .
For as behind in of on over till to without