knew, was that he had found a charming companion, a
woman whose thought, if deeper, or at any rate different to his and not
altogether to be followed, was in tune with his. He could not always
catch her meaning, and yet that unrealised meaning would appeal to
him. Himself a very spiritual man, and a humble seeker after truth,
his nature did intuitive reverence to one who appeared to be still more
spiritual, who, as he conjectured, at times at any rate, had discovered
some portion of the truth. He believed it, although she had never told
him so. Indeed that semi-mystical side of Stella, whereof at first she
had shown him glimpses, seemed to be quite in abeyance; she dreamed no
more dreams, she saw no more visions, or if she did she kept them to
herself. Yet to him this woman seemed to be in touch with that unseen
which he found it so difficult to weigh and appreciate. Instinctively he
felt that her best thoughts, her most noble and permanent desires, were
there and not here.

As he had said to her in the boat, the old Egyptians lived to die. In
life a clay hut was for them a sufficient lodging; in death they sought
a costly, sculptured tomb, hewn from the living rock. With them these
things were symbolical, since that great people believed, with a
wonderful certainty, that the true life lay beyond. They believed, too,
that on the earth they did but linger in its gateway, passing their time
with such joy as they could summon, baring their heads undismayed to the
rain of sorrow, because they knew that very soon they would be crowned
with eternal joys, whereof each of these sorrows was but an earthly
root.

Stella Fregelius reminded Morris of these old Egyptians. Indeed, had
he wished to carry the comparison from her spiritual to her physical
attributes it still might have been considered apt, for in face she was
somewhat Eastern. Let the reader examine the portrait bust of the great
Queen Taia, clothed with its mysterious smile, which adorns the museum
in Cairo, and, given fair instead of dusky skin, with certain other
minor differences, he will behold no mean likeness to Stella Fregelius.
However this may be, for if Morris saw the resemblance there were others
who could not agree with him; doubtless although not an Eastern, ancient
or modern, she was tinged with the fatalism of the East, mingled with a
certain contempt of death inherited perhaps from her northern ancestors,
and an active, pervading spirituality that was