and said, 'Dear Alison, bless me!'--and she stared at me and lifted her
old brown wrinkled hands and laid them on my head. Then she spoke some
words in a strange language as to herself, and afterwards she said,
'Spirit of all that is and ever shall be, bless this child who belongs
to thee, and not to man! Give her the power to do what is commanded, to
the end.' And at this she stopped suddenly and bending down she lifted
my head in her two hands and looked at me hard--'Poor child, poor
child! Never a love for you--never a love! Alone you are, alone you
must be! Never a love for a "fey" woman!' And she let me go, and sat
down again to her spinning-wheel, nor would she say another
word--neither to me nor to my father."

"And you call THIS your second experience of happiness?" said Don
Aloysius, wonderingly--"What happiness did you gain by your interview
with this old Alison?"

"Ah!" and Morgana smiled--"You would not understand me if I tried to
explain! Everything came to me!--yes, everything! I began to live in a
world of my own--" she paused, and her eyes grew dark and pensive, "and
I have lived in it ever since. That is why I say my visit to old Alison
was my second experience of happiness. I've seen her again many times
since then, but not with quite the same impression."

"She is alive still?"

"Oh, yes! I often fancy she will never die!"

There was a silence of some minutes. Morgana rose, and crossing over to
the old well, studied the crimson passion-flowers which twined about
it, with almost loving scrutiny.

"How beautiful they are!" she said--"And they seem to serve no purpose
save that of simple beauty!"

"That is enough for many of God's creatures"--said Aloysius--"To give
joy and re-create joy is the mission of perfection."

She looked at him wistfully.

"Alas, poor me!" she sighed--"I can neither give joy nor create it!"

"Not even with all your wealth?"

"Not even with all my wealth!" she echoed. "Surely you--a priest--know
what a delusion wealth really is so far as happiness goes?--mere
happiness? course you can buy everything with it--and there's the
trouble! When everything is bought there's nothing left! And if you try
to help the poor they resent it--they think you are doing it because
you are afraid of them! Perhaps the worst of all things to do is to
help artists--artists of every kind!--for THEY say you want to
advertise yourself as a 'generous patron'! Oh, I've tried it all and
it's no