ere and settle
down, nor perhaps ever wish to cross over to the mainland. You see, of
the two I was the reader; and sometimes when I read Shakespeare to
her--for we possessed but a few books, and some of these, like 'The
Pilgrim's Progress,' had no real scenery in them to take hold
of--sometimes when I read Shakespeare, or 'The Arabian Nights,' or
'Mungo Park's Travels,' and the real world would open to me, with
cities like London, or Venice, or Bagdad, and with woods like the
Forest of Arden, and ports with shipping and great empty deserts, then
Ruth would catch hold and cling to me, as if I was slipping away and
leaving her before the time.... Yet we both knew that the time must
come, in the end. Do you understand at all?" she broke off to ask.

"Yes," he answered. "I cannot tell how, but as you put it I seem to see
it all."

She glanced at him with a quick, grateful smile. "Well, that is just
how it happened, and if I were to explain and explain I couldn't make
it any clearer. You understand, too, there was never any question of my
leaving Ruth until she was grown a woman and could see with a woman's
eyes. Then I knew she was safe. She had more common-sense even than I.
She was born to marry--I never doubted that; but when I saw also that
she was a woman to choose for herself and choose wisely--why, then I
saw also, and all of a sudden, that the time had come and I was better
out of the way; better, because a teacher has to know when to stop and
trust the teaching to prove itself. Else by lingering on, he may easily
do dreadful mischief, and all with the best will in the world. Do you
understand this, too?"

Again the Commandant bent his head; for again, without knowing how or
why, he understood.

"Well, I left the Islands, and there is no need to trouble you with my
own story--though some day I will tell it if you care to hear. It
contains a great deal of hard work, much good fortune, some suffering,
too; and on the whole I am a very grateful woman, as I ought to be....
But we were talking of Ruth. She married, as she was born to marry, and
her husband is a good man. She has children, and her letters are full
of their sayings and doings, as a happy mother's should be. So, you
see, our instinct was wise, and I did well to depart."

The Commandant considered this for a moment before answering: for her
tone conveyed a question, almost a challenge.

"You were wise, perhaps, to go. But why in all these years have