Then indeed peace had come. Messages of peace breathed from the seato the shore. Never to break its sleep any more, to lull it rather moredeeply to rest, and whatever the dreamers dreamt holily, dreamt wisely,to confirm—what else was it murmuring—as Lily Briscoe laid her headon the pillow in the clean still room and heard the sea. Through the openwindow the voice of the beauty of the world came murmuring, too softlyto hear exactly what it said—but what mattered if the meaning wereplain? entreating the sleepers (the house was full again; Mrs Beckwithwas staying there, also Mr Carmichael), if they would not actually comedown to the beach itself at least to lift the blind and look out. Theywould see then night flowing down in purple; his head crowned; hissceptre jewelled; and how in his eyes a child might look. And if they stillfaltered (Lily was tired out with travelling and slept almost at once; butMr Carmichael read a book by candlelight), if they still said no, that itwas vapour, this splendour of his, and the dew had more power than he,and they preferred sleeping............