orever in those eyes--in
their marvelous unfolding. More! More! He would go beyond the
cognate universe, straight into the golden heart of universes beyond.
Eternity was written there. The beacon of her eyes flamed a path that
reached beyond the stars!

She seemed like nothing but a trusting child. So, she was one with the
great poets. So, she was a great poem. He listened to the same music
which had moved Isaiah.

"The stars,--they seem to be dancing!" she exclaimed.

It was to the music of the spheres they were dancing.

"You!" he commanded, "you must get away from this house. You must take
Ben and get away from here. You must go into a new country. You must
begin your life anew and forget all this, forget everything."

He paused.

"Everything," he repeated. "They tell us that the road is straight and
narrow. It's narrow, but it is n't straight. It's crooked and it's
winding and it goes through brake and brush. It's a hard road to find
and a hard road to keep, even with the polestar over our heads. Maybe,
if we were a little above earth--maybe for those who are winged--the
road is straight, but we are n't all winged. Some of us have n't even
sturdy legs and have to creep. Some of us find our legs only after we
are helplessly lost. For down below there is a terrible tangle with
things to be gone around, with things to beat down, and always the
tangle above our heads. So what wonder that we get lost? What wonder?"

"But I am not lost--you are not lost!"

"I! I do not matter," he answered slowly. "You must n't let me
matter. I come into your life and I go out of your life and I pray
that I have done no harm."

His words to her were like words caught in a wind. She heard snatches
of them, but she was unable to piece them together.

"In your new life you must forget even me. We have met in the brush
and gone on a little way together. We have helped each other in
finding each his true road again. Whether the paths will meet
again--whether the paths will meet again--" he repeated as though deep
in some new and grander reflection, "why, God knows. If we go on
forever, perhaps they will in an aeon or two."

He paused to give her an opportunity to say something which he might
use as a subject for proceeding farther. His thoughts did n't go very
far along any one line. Always he seemed checked by a wall of
darkness. But she said nothing. The silence lengthened into a minute.

"Do yo