asked Neith to come and build something with her, wall against
tower; and 'see whether the people will be as much pleased with your
building as with mine.' But Neith answered, 'I will not contend with
you, my dear. I strive not with those who love me; and for those who
hate me, it is not well to strive with me, as weaver Arachne knows. And
remember, child, that nothing is ever done beautifully, which is done in
rivalship; nor nobly, which is done in pride.'

Then St. Barbara hung her head quite down, and said she was very sorry
she had been so foolish; and kissed Neith; and stood thinking a minute:
and then her eyes got bright again, and she said, she would go directly
and build a chapel with five windows in it; four for the four cardinal
virtues, and one for humility, in the middle, bigger than the rest. And
Neith very nearly laughed quite out, I thought; certainly her beautiful
lips lost all their sternness for an instant; then she said, 'Well,
love, build it, but do not put so many colours into your windows as you
usually do; else no one will be able to see to read, inside: and when it
is built, let a poor village priest consecrate it, and not an
archbishop.' St. Barbara started a little, I thought, and turned as if
to say something; but changed her mind, and gathered up her train, and
went out. And Neith bent herself again to her loom, in which she was
weaving a web of strange dark colours, I thought; but perhaps it was
only after the glittering of St. Barbara's embroidered train: and I
tried to make out the figures in Neith's web, and confused myself among
them, as one always does in dreams; and then the dream changed
altogether, and I found myself, all at once, among a crowd of little
Gothic and Egyptian spirits, who were quarrelling: at least the Gothic
ones were trying to quarrel; for the Egyptian ones only sat with their
hands on their knees, and their aprons sticking out very stiffly; and
stared. And after a while I began to understand what the matter was. It
seemed that some of the troublesome building imps, who meddle and make
continually, even in the best Gothic work, had been listening to St.
Barbara's talk with Neith; and had made up their minds that Neith had no
workpeople who could build against them. They were but dull imps, as you
may fancy by their thinking that; and never had done much, except
disturbing the great Gothic building angels at their work, and playing
tricks to each other; indeed, of late