hough she longed to do so, for at the same time she
was afraid. He smiled when he saw the alarm in her face.

'Do you think,' he said, 'that you are to go this journey on your own
charges? Had you insisted, as some do, to go at all hazards, you might
indeed have feared. And even now I cannot promise that you will not feel
the thorns of the earth as you pass; but you will be cared for, so that
no harm can come.'

'Ah,' she said wistfully, 'it is not for harm--' and could say nothing
more.

He laid his hand upon her arm, and he said, 'Do not fear; though they see
you not, it is yet sweet for a moment to be there, and as you pass, it
brings thoughts of you to their minds.'

For these two understood each other, and knew that to see and yet not be
seen is only a pleasure for those who are most like the Father, and can
love without thought of love in return.

When he touched her, it seemed to the little Pilgrim suddenly that
everything changed round her, and that she was no longer in her own
place, but walking along a weary length of road. It was narrow and rough,
and the skies were dim; and as she went on by the side of her guide she
saw houses and gardens which were to her like the houses that children
build, and the little gardens in which they sow seeds and plant flowers,
and take them up again to see if they are growing. She turned to the
Sage, saying, 'What are--?' and then stopped and gazed again, and burst
out into something that was between laughing and tears. 'For it is home,'
she cried, 'and I did not know it! dear home!' Her heart was remorseful,
as if she had wounded the little diminished place.

'This is what happens with those who have been living in the king's
palaces,' he said with a smile.

'But I love it dearly, I love it dearly!' the little Pilgrim said,
stretching out her hands as if for pardon. He smiled at her, consoling
her; and then his face changed and grew very grave.

'Little sister,' he said, 'you have come not to see happiness but pain.
We want no explanation of the joy, for that flows freely from the heart
of the Father, and all is clear between us and Him; but that which you
desire to know is why trouble should be. Therefore you must think of Him
and be strong, for here is what will rend your heart.'

The little Pilgrim was seized once more with mortal fear. 'O friend,' she
cried, 'I have done with pain. Must I go and see others suffering and do
nothing for them?'

'If anything come