loved her. "I that never was clever!" she said to herself, with a smile.
And chiefly she thought of a friend whom she loved, who was often in
great perplexity, and did not know how to guide herself amid the
difficulties of the world.

The little Pilgrim half laughed with delight, and then half cried with
longing to go, as the beautiful lady had done, and make something clear
that had been dark before to this friend. As she was thinking what a
pleasure it would be, some one came up to her, crossing over the flowery
greenness, leaving the path on purpose. This was a being younger than
the lady who had spoken to her before, with flowing hair all crisped
with touches of sunshine, and a dress all white and soft, like the
feathers of a white dove. There was something in her face different from
that of the other, by which the little Pilgrim knew somehow, without
knowing how, that she had come here as a child, and grown up in this
celestial place. She was tall and fair, and came along with so musical a
motion, as if her foot scarcely touched the ground, that she might have
had wings. And the little Pilgrim indeed was not sure as she watched,
whether it might not perhaps be an angel, for she knew that there were
angels among the blessed people who were coming and going about, but had
not been able yet to find one out. She knew that this new-comer was
coming to her, and turned towards her with a smile and a throb at her
heart of expectation. But when the heavenly maiden drew nearer, her
face, though it was so fair, looked to the Pilgrim like another face,
which she had known very well--indeed, like the homely and troubled face
of the friend of whom she had been thinking. And so she smiled all the
more, and held out her hands and said--"I am sure I know you," upon
which the other kissed her, and said, "We all know each other; but I
have seen you often before you came here," and knelt down by her, among
the flowers that were growing, just in front of some tall lilies that