ze, and dropped upon her knees, not knowing what she did.

He was going about His Father's business, not lingering, yet neither
making haste; and the calm and peace which the little Pilgrim had seen
in the faces of the blessed were but reflections from the majestic
gentleness of the countenance to which, all quivering with happiness and
wonder, she lifted up her eyes. Many things there had been in her mind
to say to Him. She wanted to ask for those she loved some things which
perhaps He had overlooked. She wanted to say, "Send me." It seemed to
her that here was the occasion she had longed for all her life. Oh, how
many times had she wished to be able to go to Him, to fall at His feet,
to show Him something which had been left undone, something which
perhaps for her asking He would remember to do. But when this dream of
her life was fulfilled, and the little Pilgrim kneeling, and all shaken
and trembling with devotion and joy, was at His feet, lifting her face
to Him, seeing Him, hearing Him--then she said nothing to Him at all.
She no longer wanted to say anything, or wanted anything except what He
chose, or had power to think of anything except that all was well, and
everything--everything, as it should be in His hand. It seemed to her
that all that she had ever hoped for was fulfilled when she met the look
in His eyes. At first it seemed too bright for her to meet, but next
moment she knew it was all that was needed to light up the world, and in
it everything was clear. Her trembling ceased, her little frame grew
inspired; though she still knelt, her head rose erect, drawn to Him like
the flower to the sun. She could not tell how long it was, nor what was
said, nor if it was in words. All that she knew was that she told Him
all that ever she had thought, or wished, or intended in all her life,
although she said nothing at all; and that He opened all things to her,
and showed her that everything was well, and no one forgotten; and that
the things she would have told Him of were more near His heart than
hers, and those to whom she wanted to be sent were in His own hand. But
whether this passed with words or without words she could not tell. Her
soul expanded under His eyes like a flower. It opened out, it
comprehended, and felt, and knew. She smote her hands together in her
wonder that she could have missed seeing what was so clear, and laughed
with a sweet scorn at her folly, as two people who love each other laugh
at