"But suppose that it is _not_ superstition, as you yourself will admit when you see the supernatural truth of religion, and God grant that that may be very soon."
"Amen! How I long for faith in _eternal_ happiness now, Flora."
His expressive eyes and the tone of his voice as it lingered over her name told all that words did not say of why it was that he so longed for such faith _now_. And Flora read it all therein with deep delight as she answered, "How true it is that the more the heart loves, the more irresistibly is it drawn to Divine faith, for _then_ we dare not believe that the grave is to be the end of everything. The great mystery of life and death would be too awful had we not faith and hope. So you must have them, Edwin."
"I shall have them, Flora, if I can only find what I used to call my _ignis fatuus_--certainty--to rest them upon. I gave up the search for it long ago, as I told you, but now I will begin it again in a new territory and under new auspices, and if it will cease to be an _ignis fatuus_, and blaze into a steady flame, how grateful I shall be, and how I shall bless the star which lighted it up for me, and shed over me the halo of happiness for this world and for the next. But here we are at the baths of Kreuth."
"It is very pretty," replied Flora, "although it cannot boast of Achensee's grand wild beauty. What could rival that?" Flora's smile seemed to say that Achensee had more charms for her even than those which nature had bestowed upon it.
At Kreuth a rest and hot luncheon--or dinner, as it may be called--were very acceptable after their drive through the keen mountain air; and in about two hours they resumed their journey. Some time before reaching Kreuth they crossed the Tyrolian boundary into south Bavaria, where the scenery all the way to Tegernsee is very lovely, although, as Flora said, it cannot boast of great wildness or grandeur; and Tegernsee itself is a sweet little spot, but wholly devoid of any of the characteristics of Achensee. The lake is like an immense sheet of crystal, with pretty little villages and gardens running down to its very edge, and all around wooded hills and flowery meadows meet one's gaze, but there is nothing solemn or impressive about it. The dark blue lake shut in by ramparts of snowy mountains, the isolated cottages with their carved crosses, the oratory and the shrine--these all belong to Tyrol. Tegernsee charms the eye with its smiling prettiness and brightness, but it does not speak to the imagination as Achensee does.