And now this fateful interview had come to a close. The dell was to be left a
solitude among its dark, old trees, which, with their multitudinous tongues,
would whisper long of what had passed there, and no mortal be the wiser. And the
melancholy brook would add this other tale to the mystery with which its little
heart was already overburdened, and whereof it still kept up a murmuring babble,
with not a whit more cheerfulness of tone than for ages heretofore.
And so the fateful encounter came to an end. The dell would be left alone with
its dark, old trees, which could safely whisper of what had happened there. No
one would ever hear. The melancholy brook would add this tale to the mystery,
which it carried in its little heart. It would babble of what had happened on
this day, no more cheerful for the addition.