es, even on earth, it is the other way; and
passion once extinct, two natures often realise their dissimilarities
rather than their similarities; and this is the cause of much
unhappiness. But in the other land, two souls may develop in quite
different ways and at a different pace. And then this relation may also
come quietly and simply to an end, without the least resentment or
regret, and is succeeded invariably by a very tender and true
friendship, each being sweetly and serenely content with all that has
been given or received; and this friendship is not shaken or fretted,
even if both of the lovers form new ties of close intimacy. Some natures
form many of these ties, some few, some none at all. I believe that, as
a matter of fact, each nature has its counterpart at all times, but does
not always succeed in finding it. But the union, when it comes, seems to
take precedence of all other emotions and all other work. I did not know
this at the time; but I had a sense that my work was for a time over,
because it seemed quite plain to me that as yet Cynthia was not in the
least degree suited to the sort of work which I had been doing.

We walked on together for some time, in a happy silence, though quiet
communications of a blessed sort passed perpetually between us without
any interchange of word. Our feet moved along the hillside, away from
the crags, because I felt that Cynthia had no strength to climb them;
and I wondered what our life would be.

Presently a valley opened before us, folding quietly in among the hills,
full of a golden haze; and it seemed to me that our further way lay down
it. It fell softly and securely into a further plain, the country being
quite unlike anything I had as yet seen--a land of high and craggy
mountains, the lower parts of them much overgrown with woods; the valley
itself widened out, and passed gently among the hills, with here and
there a lake. Dotted all about the mountain-bases, at the edges of the
woods, were little white houses, stone-walled and stone-tiled, with
small gardens; and then the place seemed to become strangely familiar
and homelike; and I became aware that I was coming home: the same
thought occurred to Cynthia; and at last, when we turned a corner of
the road, and saw lying a little back from the road a small house, with
a garden in front of it, shaded by a group of sycamores, we darted
forwards with a cry of delight to the home that was indeed our own. The
door