f them,
necessarily, shapes that the mineral takes in other places, they are
all taken here with such a grace that you recognise the high caste and
breeding of the crystals wherever you meet them; and know at once they
are Hartz-born.

Of course, such fine things as these are only done by crystals which are
perfectly good, and good-humoured; and of course, also, there are
ill-humoured crystals who torment each other, and annoy quieter
crystals, yet without coming to anything like serious war. Here (for
once) is some ill-disposed quartz, tormenting a peaceable octahedron of
fluor, in mere caprice. I looked at it the other night so long, and so
wonderingly, just before putting my candle out, that I fell into another
strange dream. But you don't care about dreams.

DORA. No; we didn't, yesterday; but you know we are made up of caprice;
so we do, to-day: and you must tell it us directly.

L. Well, you see, Neith and her work were still much in my mind; and
then, I had been looking over these Hartz things for you, and thinking
of the sort of grotesque sympathy there seemed to be in them with the
beautiful fringe and pinnacle work of Northern architecture. So, when I
fell asleep, I thought I saw Neith and St. Barbara talking together.

DORA. But what had St. Barbara to do with it?[152]

L. My dear, I am quite sure St. Barbara is the patroness of good
architects: not St. Thomas, whatever the old builders thought. It might
be very fine, according to the monks' notions, in St. Thomas, to give
all his employer's money away to the poor: but breaches of contract are
bad foundations; and I believe, it was not he, but St. Barbara, who
overlooked the work in all the buildings you and I care about. However
that may be, it was certainly she whom I saw in my dream with Neith.
Neith was sitting weaving, and I thought she looked sad, and threw her
shuttle slowly; and St. Barbara was standing at her side, in a stiff
little gown, all ins and outs, and angles; but so bright with embroidery
that it dazzled me whenever she moved; the train of it was just like a
heap of broken jewels, it was so stiff, and full of corners, and so
many-coloured, and bright. Her hair fell over her shoulders in long,
delicate waves, from under a little three pinnacled crown, like a tower.
She was asking Neith about the laws of architecture in Egypt and Greece;
and when Neith told her the measures of the pyramids, St. Barbara said
she thought they would have bee