l sea. How
beautiful, how beautiful. Not to have died before this . . . to have
been allowed to see, breathe, feel this. . . . She stared, her lips
parted. Happy? Poor, ordinary, everyday word. But what could one
say, how could one describe it? It was as though she could hardly stay
inside herself, it was as though she were too small to hold so much of
joy, it was as though she were washed through with light. And how
astonishing to feel this sheer bliss, for here she was, not doing and
not going to do a single unselfish thing, not going to do a thing she
didn't want to do. According to everybody she had ever some across she
ought at least to have twinges. She had not one twinge. Something was
wrong somewhere. Wonderful that at home she should have been so good,
so terribly good, and merely felt tormented. Twinges of every sort had
there been her portion; aches, hurts, discouragements, and she the
whole time being steadily unselfish. Now she had taken off all her
goodness and left it behind her like a heap in rain-sodden clothes, and
she only felt joy. She was naked of goodness, and was rejoicing in
being naked. She was stripped, and exulting. And there, away in the
dim mugginess of Hampstead, was Mellersh being angry.

She tried to visualize Mellersh, she tried to see him having
breakfast and thinking bitter things about her; and lo, Mellersh
himself began to shimmer, became rose-colour, became delicate violet,
became an enchanting blue, became formless, became iridescent.
Actually Mellersh, after quivering a minute, was lost in light.

"Well," thought Mrs. Wilkins, staring, as it were, after him.
How extraordinary not to be able to visualize Mellersh; and she who
used to know every feature, every expression of his by heart. She
simply could not see him as he was. She could only see him resolved
into beauty, melted into harmony with everything else. The familiar
words of the General Thanksgiving came quite naturally into her mind,
and she found herself blessing God for her creation, preservation, and
all the blessings of this life, but above all for His inestimable Love;
out loud; in a burst of acknowledgment. While Mellersh, at that moment
angrily pulling on his boots before going out into the dripping
streets, was indeed thinking bitter things about her.

She began to dress, choosing clean white clothes in honour of the
summer's day, unpacking her suit-cases, tidying her adorable little
room. S