who never
gives us any holidays, very quickly disposes of it. For what is to
become of the god-like mood if only one in a company possess it? The
middle-aged and old, who abound in all companies, are seldom god-like,
and are never so at breakfast.

The morning after the arrival of the Chosen, Anna woke up in the true
Olympian temper. She had been brought back to the happy world of
realities from the happy world of dreams by the sun of an unusually
lovely April shining on her face. She had only to open her window to be
convinced that all which she beheld was full of blessings. Just beneath
her window on the grass was a double cherry tree in flower, an exquisite
thing to look down on with the sunshine and the bees busy among its
blossoms. The unreasoning joyfulness that invariably took possession of
her heart whenever the weather was fine, filled it now with a rapture of
hope and confidence. This world, this wonderful morning world that she
saw and smelt from her window, was manifestly a place in which to be
happy. Everything she saw was very good. Even the remembrance of Dellwig
was transfigured in that clear light. And while she dressed she took
herself seriously to task for the depression of the night before.
Depressed she had certainly been; and why? Simply because she was
over-excited and over-tired, and her spirit was still so mortifyingly
unable to rise superior to the weakness of her tiresome flesh. And to
let herself be made wretched by Dellwig, merely because he talked loud
and had convictions which she did not share! The god-like morning mood
was strong upon her, and she contemplated her listless self of the
previous evening, the self that had sat so long despondently thinking
instead of going to bed, with contempt. These evening interviews with
Dellwig, she reflected, were a mistake. He came at hours when she was
least able to bear his wordiness and shouting, and it was the knowledge
of his impending visit that made her irritable beforehand and ruffled
the absolute serenity that she felt was alone appropriate in a house
dedicated to love. But it was not only Dellwig and the brick-kiln that
had depressed her; she had actually had doubts about her three new
friends, doubts as to the receptivity of their souls, as to the capacity
of their souls for returning love. At one awful moment she had even
doubted whether they had souls at all, but had hastily blown out the
candle at this point, extinguishing the doubt at