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These dark months the chemic earth had been busy with the little body they loved, and by this time Wonder would be many violets. "Let us go to Wonder," they said; "she is awake now." THESE DARK MONTHS THE CHEMIC EARTH HAD BEEN BUSY WITH THE LITTLE BODY THEY LOVED AND BY THIS TIME WONDER WOULD BE MANY VIOLETS LET US GO TO WONDER THEY SAID SHE IS AWAKE NOW
hear that voice again." "O Antony, is it really true? You have come back to me. I can hardly believe it." "Listen, Beatrice; when we return to the Valley, return only to leave it for ever, I will take the Image and smash it in a hundred pieces—for I hate it now as much as I once loved it. Fear not; it will never trouble our peace again." The mention of the valley was a momentary cloud on Beatrice's happiness, but as she looked into Antony's resolute love-lit face, it melted away. CHAPTER XX ANTONY'S JUDGMENT UPON SILENCIEUX So the weeks and months went by for those two upon the hills, and the soul of Antony grew stronger day by day, and his love with it—and the face of Beatrice was like a bird singing. At last the spring came, and the snow was no more needed to keep warm the flowers. With the flowers came the snowdrop-soul of Wonder, and the thoughts of mother and father turned to the place of kind old trees and tender country bells, where in the unflowering November they had laid her.  HEAR THAT VOICE AGAIN OH ANTHONY IS IT REALLY TRUE YOU HAVE COME BACK TO ME I CAN HARDLY BELIEVE IT LISTEN BEATRICE WHEN WE RETURN TO THE VALLEY RETURN ONLY TO LEAVE IT FOREVER I WILL TAKE THE IMAGE AND SMASH IT IN A HUNDRED PIECES FOR I HATE IT NOW AS MUCH AS I ONCE LOVED IT FEAR NOT IT WILL NEVER TROUBLE OUR PEACE AGAIN THE MENTION OF THE VALLEY WAS A MOMENTARY CLOUD ON BEATRICE'S HAPPINESS BUT AS SHE LOOKED INTO ANTONY'S RESOLUTE LOVE LIT FACE IT MELTED AWAY END OF CHAPTER NINETEEN CHAPTER TWENTY ANTONY'S JUDGMENT UPON SILAJO SO THE WEEKS AND MONTHS WENT BY FOR THOSE TWO UPON THE HILLS AND THE SOUL OF ANTONY GREW STRONGER DAY BY DAY AND HIS LOVE WITH IT AND THE FACE OF BEATRICE WAS LIKE A BIRD SINGING AT LAST THE SPRING CAME AND THE SNOW WAS NO MORE NEEDED TO KEEP WARM THE FLOWERS WITH THE FLOWERS CAME THE SNOWDROP'S SOUL OF WONDER AND THE THOUGHTS OF MOTHER AND FATHER TURNED TO THE PLACE OF KIND OLD TREES AND TENDER COUNTRY BELLS WHERE IN THE UNFLOWERING NOVEMBER THEY HAD LAID HER
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