"It did not seem so. Wait a moment and you shall hear the way of
it. At first I felt only a deep quietness and repose, like one who
has been in pain and is very tired and lies down in the shade to
sleep. Then I was waking again and something was drawing me gently
upward. I cannot exactly explain it, but it was as if I were passing
through the roots and the trunk and the boughs of the beech-tree
toward the upper air. There I saw the light again and heard the
birds singing and the wind rustling among the leaves. How I saw
and heard I cannot tell you, for there was no remembrance of a body
in my dream. Then suddenly my soul--I suppose it was that--stood
before God and He was asking me: 'How did you come hither?'
I answered, 'By Christ's way, by the way of a tree.' And He said
it was well, and that my work in heaven should be the care of the
trees growing by the river of life, and that sometimes I could go
back to visit my trees on earth, if I wished. That made me very
glad, for I knew that so I should see you and our children under
the beeches. And while I was wondering whether you would ever
know that I was there, the dream dissolved, and I saw the morning
light on the tree-tops. What do you think of my dream? Childish,
wasn't it?"

She thought a little before she answered.

"It was natural enough, though vague. Of course we could not be
buried at the foot of the beech-tree unless Cardinal Mercier would
permit a plot of ground to be consecrated there. But come, it is
time to go in to breakfast."

She seemed to dismiss the matter from her mind. Yet, as women so