"It is not to be happy that we live," said he; and then, "We are all
happy so soon as we have found the way."

She would have asked him more, but that he was called to a consultation
with some others of his kind, and had to leave her, waving his hand to
her with a tender kindness, which went to her heart. She looked after
him with great respect, and almost awe; for it seemed to her that a man
who had been in the land of darkness, and made his way out of it, must
be more wonderful than any other. She looked round for a little upon
the great library, full of all the books that had ever been written, and
where people were doing their work, examining and reading and making
extracts, every one with looks of so much interest, that she almost
envied them--though it was a generous delight in seeing people so happy
in their occupation, and a desire to associate herself somehow in it,
rather than any grudging of their satisfaction that was in her mind. She
went about all the courts of this palace alone, and everywhere saw the
same work going on, and everywhere met the same kind looks. Even when
the greatest of all looked up from his work and saw her, he would give
her a friendly greeting and a smile; and nobody was too wise to lend an
ear to the little visitor, or to answer her questions. And this was how
it was that she began to talk to another, who was seated at a great
table with many more, and who drew her to him by something that was in
his looks, though she could not have told what it was. It was not that
he was kinder than the rest, for they were all kind. She stood by him a
little, and saw how he worked and would take something from one book and
something from another, putting them ready for use. And it did not seem
any trouble to do this work, but only pleasure, and the very pen in his
hand was like a winged thing, as if it loved to write. When he saw her
watching him, he looked up and showed her the beautiful book out of
which he was copying, which was all illuminated with lovely pictures.