at the end! Their
mother's wonderful; I'm afraid of her. But Uncle Tod is a perfect dear.
I never saw any one before who noticed so many things that I didn't, and
nothing that I did. I am sure he has in him what Mr. Cuthcott said we
were all losing--the love of simple, natural conditions. And then,
THE moment, when I stood with Derek at the end of the orchard, to say
good-by. The field below covered with those moony-white flowers, and the
cows all dark and sleepy; the holy feeling down there was wonderful, and
in the branches over our heads, too, and the velvety, starry sky, and
the dewiness against one's face, and the great, broad silence--it was
all worshipping something, and I was worshipping--worshipping happiness.
I WAS happy, and I think HE was. Perhaps I shall never be so happy
again. When he kissed me I didn't think the whole world had so much
happiness in it. I know now that I'm not cold a bit; I used to think I
was. I believe I could go with him anywhere, and do anything he wanted.
What would Dad think? Only the other day I was saying I wanted to know
everything. One only knows through love. It's love that makes the world
all beautiful--makes it like those pictures that seem to be wrapped
in gold, makes it like a dream--no, not like a dream--like a wonderful
tune. I suppose that's glamour--a goldeny, misty, lovely feeling, as if
my soul were wandering about with his--not in my body at all. I want it
to go on and on wandering--oh! I don't want it back in my body, all hard
and inquisitive and aching! I shall never know anything so lovely as
loving him and being loved. I don't want anything more--nothing! Stay
with me, please--Happiness! Don't go away and leave me!... They frighten
me, though; he frightens me--their idealism; wanting to do great things,
and fight for justice. If only I'd been brought up more like that--but
everything's been so different. It's their mother, I think, even more
than themselves. I seem to have grown up just looking on at life as at
a show; watching it, thinking about it, trying to understand--not living
it at all. I must get over that; I will. I believe I can tell the very
moment I began to love him. It was in the schoolroom the second evening.
Sheila and I were sitting there just before dinner, and he came, in a
rage, looking splendid. 'That footman put out everything just as if I
were a baby--asked me for suspenders to fasten on my socks; hung the
things on a chair in order, as if I