In the crystal cup of the sky over her the stars were blinking . Flying flakes of foam were scurrying over the sand like elfin things . A soft little wind was crooning about the eaves of the little gray house where David Spencer was sitting , alone in the twilight , his violin on his knee . He had been trying to play , but could not . His heart yearned after his daughter -- yes , and after a long-estranged bride of his youth . His love of the sea was sated forever ; his love for wife and child still cried for its own under all his old anger and stubbornness . The door opened suddenly and the very Rachel of whom he was dreaming came suddenly in , flinging off her wraps and standing forth in her young beauty and bridal adornments , a splendid creature , almost lighting up the gloom with her radiance . `` Father , '' she cried , brokenly , and her father 's eager arms closed around her . Back in the house she had left , the guests were coming to the wedding . There were jests and laughter and friendly greeting . The bridegroom came , too , a slim , dark-eyed lad who tiptoed bashfully upstairs to the spare room , from which he presently emerged to confront Mrs. Spencer on the landing . `` I want to see Rachel before we go down , '' he said , blushing . Mrs. Spencer deposited a wedding present of linen on the table which was already laden with gifts , opening the door of Rachel 's room , and called her . There was no reply ; the room was dark and still . In sudden alarm , Isabella Spencer snatched the lamp from the hall table and held it up . The little white room was empty . No blushing , white-clad bride tenanted it . But David Spencer 's letter was lying on the stand . She caught it up and read it . `` Rachel is gone , '' she gasped .
A flash XXXXX intuition had revealed to her where and why the girl had gone .
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