Harmony exactly described this huge new thing
that had come into the family, into the village, into the world. The
feeling that they all were separate items, struggling for existence
one against the other, had gone for ever. Life seemed now a single
whole, an enormous pattern. Every one fitted in. There was effort--
wholesome jolly effort, but no longer the struggle or fighting that
were ugly. To 'live carelessly' was possible and right because the
pattern was seen entire. It was to live in the whole.
'Harmony,' she repeated to herself, with a great swelling happiness in
her heart, 'that's the nunculus of the matter.'
'The what?' he asked, overhearing her.
'The nunculus,' she repeated bravely, seeing the word in her mind, yet
unable to get it quite. Rogers did not correct her.
'Rather,' was all he said. 'Of course it is.' What did the
pronunciation of a word matter at such a time? Her version even
sounded better than the original. Mother saw things bigger! Already
she was becoming creative!
'And you're the one who brought it,' she continued, but this time so
low that he did not catch the words. 'It's you, your personality, your
thinking, your atmosphere somehow that have brought this gigantic
sense of peace and calm security which are _au fond_ nothing but the
consciousness of harmony and the power of seeing ugly details in their
proper place--in a single _coup d'oeil_--and understanding them as
parts of a perfect whole.
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