flushing, "I still believe that for every man there is an all-embracing
woman to whom he is all-embracing. Thank God! I'm childish enough to
believe in her still, though I speak through soiled lips--the
all-embracing woman who alone can hold you and that you alone can hold."

Lewis stared absently into the fire.

"'The worlds of women are seven,'" he repeated, half to himself:
"'spirit, weed, flower, the blind, the visioned, libertine, and saint.
None of these is for thee. For each child of love there is a woman that
holds the seven worlds within a single breast. Hold fast to thy
birthright, even though thou journey with thy back unto the light.'"

"What--where--what's that?" stammered Leighton, staring at his son.

Lewis looked up and smiled.

"Only Old Immortality. Do you remember her? The old woman who told my
fortune. She said that. D'you know, I think she must have been a
discarded Gipsy. I never thought of it before. I didn't know then what a
Gipsy was."

"Gipsy or saint, take it from me, she was, and probably is, a wise
woman," said Leighton. "Somehow I'm still sure she can never die. Do you
remember all she said when she told you your fortune?"

"Yes," said Lewis; "I think I do. Every once in a while I've said it
over to myself."

"I wish you'd write down what she said and--and leave it on my table for