es, and calling,
"Now! now! O, was there ever anything like that?"

At last it turned into a heavenly vision of still, far, shining
waters; the earth and the pools upon it darkened, and the sky
gathered up into itself the glory, and disclosed its own wider and
diviner beauty.

A great rampart of gray, blue, violet clouds lay jagged, grand, like
rocks along a shore. Up over them rushed light, crimson surf,
foaming, tossing. Beyond, a rosy sea. In it, little golden boats
floated. The flamy light flung itself up into the calm zenith; there
it met the still heaven-color, and the sky was tender with
saffron-touched blue.

So the tempest of trouble met the tempest of love in the end of the
day, and the world rolled on into the night under the glory and
peace of their rushing and melting together.

After all that, they came back by a step and a word--these mortal
observers,--to practical consultation such as mortals must have, and
especially if they be upon their travels; to questions about
bestowal, and the homely, kindly, funny little details of Mrs.
Jeffords' hospitality.

"Where should she put them? Why, she was _always_ ready. To be sure,
the _front_ upper room had had the carpets taken up since the summer
company went, and the beds were down; but, la, there was room
enough!"

"There's the east down-stairs bedroom, and the little west-room over
the sittin'-room, and there's _my_ room! I ain't never put out!"

"But you are; out of your room; and you ought not to be."

"Don't _care_!" said Mrs. Jeffords, triumphantly. "There's the
kitchen bedroom, that I keep apurpose to camp down in. It's all
right. Don't you worry."

"You never care; that's the reason I do worry," said Sylvie.

"I've learnt not to care," said Mrs. Jeffords. "'Tain't no use. You
must take things as they are. They will be so, and you can't help
it. If they fall right side up, well and good; if they're wrong side
up, let 'em lay. And they ain't wrong side up yet, I can tell you.
You just go and sit down and enjoy yourselves."

Mrs. Argenter was brighter this evening than she had been for a
long while. "It was nice to be among people again," she said, when
the evening was over.

"So it is," said Sylvie. "But somehow I didn't feel the difference
the other way. I think I always _am_ among people. At least it never
seems to me as if they were very far off. Next door mayn't be
exactly alongside, but it is next door for all that, and it is in
the