In fancy he walked and talked with her , spoke words of love to her , and heard words of love in return . When he came from work at the close of day she met him at his threshold in the twilight -- a strange , fair , starry shape , as elusive and spiritual as a blossom reflected in a pool by moonlight -- with welcome on her lips and in her eyes . One day , when he was in Charlottetown on business , he had been struck by a picture in the window of a store . It was strangely like the woman of his dream love . He went in , awkward and embarrassed , and bought it . When he took it home he did not know where to put it . It was out of place among the dim old engravings of bewigged portraits and conventional landscapes on the walls of Golden Milestone . As he pondered the matter in his garden that evening he had an inspiration . The sunset , flaming on the windows of the west gable , kindled them into burning rose . Amid the splendour he fancied Alice 's fair face peeping archly down at him from the room . The inspiration came then . It should be her room ; he would fit it up for her ; and her picture should hang there . He was all summer carrying out his plan . Nobody must know or suspect , so he must go slowly and secretly . One by one the furnishings were purchased and brought home under cover of darkness . He arranged them with his own hands . He bought the books he thought she would like best and wrote her name in them ; he got the little feminine knick-knacks of basket and thimble . Finally he saw in a store a pale blue tea-gown and the satin slippers . He had always fancied her as dressed in blue . He bought them and took them home to her room .
Thereafter it was sacred to her ; he always knocked on its door before he entered ; he kept it sweet XXXXX fresh flowers ; he sat there in the purple summer evenings and talked aloud to her or read his favourite books to her .
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