but
he saw little of Margaret alone. It did not matter. A chance look is a
volume; a word is a library. They saw each other; they heard each other.
And then passion grows almost as well in the absence as in the presence
of the object. Imagination then has free play. A little separation
sometimes will fan it into a flame.

The days went by, and Margaret's visit was over. I am obliged to say
that the leave-taking was a gay one, as full of laughter as it was of
hope. Brandon was such a little way off. Henderson often had business
there. The Misses Arbuser said, "Of course." And Margaret said he must
not forget that she lived there. Even when she bade her entertainers an
affectionate good-by, she could not look very unhappy.

Spring was coming. That day in the cars there were few signs of it
on the roadside to be seen, but the buds were swelling. And Margaret,
neglecting the book which lay on her lap, and looking out the window,
felt it in all her veins.

X

It is said that the world is created anew for every person who is in
love. There is therefore this constant miracle of a new heavens and a
new earth. It does not depend upon the seasons. The subtle force which
is in every human being, more or less active, has this power, as if
love were somehow a principle pervading nature itself, and capable of
transforming it. Is this a divine gift? Can it be used more than once?
Once spent, does the world to each succeeding experimenter in it become
old and stale? We say the world is old. In one sense, the real sense
to every person, it is no older than the lives lived in it at any given
time. If it is always passing away, it is always being renewed. Every
time a youth looks love in a maiden's eyes, and sees the timid appealing
return of the universal passion, the world for those two is just as
certainly created as it was on the first morning, in all its color,
odor, song, freshness, promise. This is the central mystery of life.

Unconsciously to herself, Margaret had worked this miracle. Never before
did the little town look so bright; never before was there exactly such
a color on the hills-sentiment is so pale compared with love; never
before did her home appear so sweet; never before was there such a fine
ecstasy in the coming of spring.

For all this, home-coming, after the first excitement of arrival is
over, is apt to be dull. The mind is so occupied with other emotions
that the friends even seem a little commonp