I knew I should find the way. I just followed
my instinct, when people told me I was unreasonable, and of course it
led me right. Reason is only to depend on in scientific sorts of things,
isn't it? The other is higher, because instinct is your _You_."

"Isn't that what people say who preach New Thought, or whatever they
call it?" asked Stephen. "A lot of women I know had rather a craze about
that two or three years ago. They went to lectures given by an American
man they raved over--said he was 'too fascinating.' And they used their
'science' to win at bridge. I don't know whether it worked or not."

"I never heard any one talk of New Thought," said Victoria. "I've just
had my own thoughts about everything. The attic at school was a lovely
place to think thoughts in. Wonderful ones always came to me, if I
called to them--thoughts all glittering--like angels. They seemed to
bring me new ideas about things I'd been born knowing--beautiful things,
which I feel somehow have been handed down to me--in my blood."

"Why, that's the way my friends used to talk about 'waking their
race-consciousness.' But it only led to bridge, with them."

"Well, it's led me from Potterston here," said Victoria, "and it will
lead me on to the end, wherever that may be, I'm sure. Perhaps it will
lead me far, far off, into that mysterious golden silence, where in
dreams I often see Saidee watching for me: the strangest dream-place,
and I've no idea where it is! But I shall find out, if she is really
there."

"What supreme confidence you have in your star!" Stephen exclaimed,
admiringly, and half enviously.

"Of course. Haven't you, in yours?"

"I have no star."

She turned her eyes to his, quickly, as if grieved. And in his eyes she
saw the shadow of hopelessness which was there to see, and could not be
hidden from a clear gaze.

"I'm sorry," she said simply. "I don't know how I could have lived
without mine. I walk in its light, as if in a path. But yours must be
somewhere in the sky, and you can find it if you want to very much."

He could have found two in her eyes just then, but such stars were not
for him. "Perhaps I don't deserve a star," he said.

"I'm sure you do. You are the kind that does," the girl comforted him.
"Do have a star!"

"It would only make me unhappy, because I mightn't be able to walk in
its light, as you do."

"It would make you very happy, as mine does me. I'm always happy,
because the light helps me to