earth, and the head of a man looking over the fence was in the middle of
the great moon. It was like the head of a saint in a missal, girt with a
halo of solid gold. I could not see the face, for the halo hid it, as
such attributions are apt to do, but it must be he; and strengthened by
the heavenly vision, I went toward him. Walking less carefully than
before, however, I caught my foot, stumbled, and fell. There came a rush
through the bushes; he was by my side, lifted me like a child, and held
me in his arms; neither was I more frightened than a child caught up in
the arms of any well-known friend: I had been bred in faith and not
mistrust! But indeed my head had struck the ground with such force, that,
had I been inclined, I could scarcely have resisted--though why should I
have resisted, being where I would be! Does not philosophy tell us that
growth and development, cause and effect, are all, and that the days and
years are of no account? And does not more than philosophy tell us that
truth is everything?"

"My darling! Are you hurt?" murmured the voice whose echoes seemed to
have haunted me for centuries.

"A little," I answered. "I shall be all right in a minute." I did not
add, "Put me down, please;" for I did not want to be put down directly. I
could not have stood if he had put me down. I grew faint.

Life came back, and I felt myself growing heavy in his arms.

"I think I can stand now," I said. "Please put me down."

He obeyed immediately.

"I've nearly broken your arms," I said, ashamed of having become a burden