upon her, to see if all her sweetness and softness was intact. It seemed
to me that if I could not see her the rising grief in me would break,
and I would sob aloud. I didn't want to do that. I had no notion to call
any attention to myself whatever, but see the baby I must. So, softly,
and like a thief, I opened the door communicating with the little
dressing-room in which Julie's cradle stood. The curtain had been drawn
and it was almost dark, but I found my way to Julie's bassinet. I could
not quite see her, but the delicate odour of her breath came up to me,
and I found her little hand and slipped my finger in it. It was gripped
in a baby pressure, and I stood there enraptured, feeling as if a flower
had caressed me. I was thrilled through and through with happiness,
and with love for this little creature, whom my selfishness might have
destroyed. There was nothing in what had happened during this moment or
two when I stood by her side to assure me that all was well with her;
but I did so believe, and I said over and over: "Thank you, God! Thank
you, God!"

And now my tears began to flow. They came in a storm--a storm I could
not control, and I fled back to mother's room, and stood there before
the west window weeping as I never had wept before.

The quiet loveliness of the closing day had passed into the splendour of
the afterglow. Mighty wings as of bright angels, pink and shining white,
reached up over the sky. The vault was purple above me, and paled to
lilac, then to green of unimaginable tenderness. Now I quenched my
tears to look, and then I wept again, weeping no more for sorrow and
loneliness and shame than for gratitude and delight in beauty. So fair a
world! What had sin to do with it? I could not make it out.

The shining wings grew paler, faded, then darkened; the melancholy sound
of cow-bells stole up from the common. The birds were still; a low
wind rustled the trees. I sat thinking my young "night thoughts" of
how marvellous it was for the sun to set, to rise, to keep its place in
heaven--of how wrapped about with mysteries we were. What if the world
should start to falling through space? Where would it land? Was there
even a bottom to the universe? "World without end" might mean that there
was neither an end to space nor yet to time. I shivered at thought of
such vastness.

Suddenly light streamed about me, warm arms enfolded me.

"Mother!" I murmured, and slipped from the unknown to the dear
fa