nor out of
the Temple cometh At-one-ment with the Father, but in the sanctuary of
the heart, Lazarus. And it was in this holy place," and the guest
turned toward Mary, "that the air was rich with perfume from a little
grove of early oranges and citron. Here I did think of thee and
brought thy _lulab_ flowers, though their leaves are faded somewhat."

"Aye, but their fragrance is tenfold, as doth come from broken lilies."

"There is a fragrance that spilleth itself in dying. In this there is
a hard lesson thou hast yet to learn, Mary."

"If I learn from thee it is not hard."

"Thou knowest not what thou sayest."

"I go to get thee new wine," Lazarus said.

"And take thou the branches, my brother, except one that I keep on the
arbor roof to make the night fragrant like the valley of retreat beyond
the way to Ajalon. The others put in the water pot by the cistern that
they may be fresh for to-morrow's festival. And hasten thou back with
the wine."

"Nay, hasten not," the young Rabbi said. "As I came along the way,
travelers did give me figs and wine so that I hunger not. Yet when the
moon hath cleared the mountains would I drink with thee thy new wine."

"As thou sayest," Lazarus replied, and taking the guest's cloak and
staff he went below.

"I saw thy face as I stood waiting at the door," the guest said to Mary
when they were alone. "Thine eyes saw farther than the parapet, and
the vision made thy countenance a very pleasant one. Sit thee down and
let us look together."

Mary sat down on a foot-stool which he drew to the side of his chair
and turned a smiling face to him as she said, "Often in the heavens I
see sights more beautiful than words can tell. Look you now, just over
there where the clouds bank low behind the olive tops. Dost thou not
see fleecy lambs playing on hillsides of ruddy lilies! And over where
the mountain casts its purple line across the far-off pink--see thou
the pile of marble palaces wrought in such beauty as even Solomon hath
not conceived? And canst thou not see rosy chariots driving from the
west, the banners of the horsemen streaming and their red and burnished
hair reaching into endless tresses? But look you yonder!" and she
pointed toward a bank of moving clouds. "There are such beautiful
clouds as angel wings are made of, and is not that a distant shore
across the sky?"

"Yea," he answered, "and snowy mountains bearing snowy cedars."

"A path of light doth open