'There she lies,
poor aching soul, as she has lain for twenty years, thinking good of
some one, or maybe praying!' For the glimmer was visible from very
far, and familiar as a lighthouse to wandering ships at sea. But, had
they known her inner happiness, they would not have said 'poor soul!'
They would have marvelled. In a Catholic canton, perhaps, they would
have crossed themselves and prayed. Just now they certainly would have
known a singular, exalted joy. Caught in fairyland, they would have
wondered and felt happy.
For the room was crowded to the doors. Walls, windows, ceiling, had
melted into transparency to let in the light of stars; and, caught
like gold-fish in the great network of the rays, shone familiar
outlines everywhere--Jimbo, Monkey, Jinny, the Sweep, the Tramp, the
Gypsy, the Laugher up against the cupboard, the Gardener by the window
where the flower-pots stood, the Woman of the Haystack in the
corridor, too extensive to slip across the threshold, and, in the
middle of the room, motionless with pleasure-Mother!
'Like gorgeous southern butterflies in a net, I do declare!' gasped
Daddy, as he swept in silently with his companion, their colours
mingling harmoniously at once with the rest.
And Mother turned.
'You're out, old girl, at last!' he cried.
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