e,--as if we had been something--I don't know what--to each other
from the beginning of time--since the 'morning stars first sang
together.' I don't know exactly what that means, or how stars sing--but
I like the sound of it. It seems to mean something I mean though I don't
know how to say it." He was not in the least portentous or solemn, but
he was the most strongly feeling and _real_ creature she had ever heard
speaking to her and he swept her along with him, as if he had indeed
been the Spring freshet and she a leaf. "I believe," here he began to
speak slowly as if he were thinking it out, "that there was
something--that meant something--in the way we two were happy together
and could not bear to be parted--years ago when we were nothing but
children. Do you know that, little chap as I was, I never stopped
thinking of you day and night when we were not playing together. I
_couldn't_!"

"Neither could I stop thinking," said Robin. "I had dreams about seeing
your eyes looking at me. They were blue like clear water in summer. They
were always laughing. I always _wanted_ them to look at me! They--they
are the same eyes now," in a little rush of words.

Their blueness was on hers--in the very deeps of their uplifted
liquidity.

"God! I'm _glad_!" his voice was on a hushed note.

There has never been a limner through all the ages who has pictured--at
such a moment--two pairs of eyes reaching, melting into, lost in each
other in their human search for the longing soul drawing together human
things. Hand and brush and colour cannot touch That which Is and Must
Be--in its yearning search for the spirit which is its life on earth.
Yet a boy and girl were yearning towards it as they sat in mere mortal
form on a bench in a London square. And neither of them knew more than
that they wondered at and adored the beauty in each other's eyes.

"I didn't know what a little chap I was," he said next. "I'd had a
splendid life for a youngster and I was big for my age and ramping with
health and strength and happiness. You seemed almost a baby to me,
but--it was the way you looked at me, I think--I wanted to talk to you,
and please you and make you laugh. You had a red little mouth with deep
dimples that came and went near the corners. I liked to see them
twinkle."

"You told me," she laughed, remembering. "You put the point of your
finger in them. But you didn't hurt me," in quick lovely reassuring.
"You were not a rough little bo