ling
of Irish wolves against the moon," came like a healthy tonic after a
week of ecstasy spent over the preceding lines.

Her mind grew in such companionship. She lived no more alone: she
had found friends who sympathized with her. Smiles and tears became
frequent on her face, making it more beautiful. _As You Like It_ was
just as she liked it. The forest of Arden was her forest. Rosalind's
banished father was her father: that busy man she had never seen. With
the book for interpreter she fell in love with her world over again.
Sunset and dawn possessed new charms; the little flowers seemed
dignified; moonlight and fairy-land unveiled their mysteries; nothing
was forgotten. It appeared as if all the knowledge of the world was
contained in those magic pages, and the master-key to this treasure,
the dominant of this harmony, was _love_--the word that Danby
had taught her. The word? The feeling as well, and with the
feeling--_all_.

Circling from this passion as from a pole-star, all those great
constellations of thought revolved. With Lear's madness was Cordelia's
affection; with the inhumanity of Shylock was Jessica's trust; with
the Moor's jealousy was Desdemona's devotion. The sweet and bitter
of life, religion, poetry and philosophy, ambition, revenge and
superstition, controlled, created or destroyed by that little word.
And _how_ they loved--Perdita, Juliet, Miranda--quickly and entirely,
without shame, as she had loved Danby--as buds bloom and birds warble.
Oh it was sweet, sweet, sweet! Amid friends like these she became gay,
moved briskly, grew rosy and sang. This was her favorite song, to a
melody she had caught from the river:

Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.

Four years passed by--not all spent with one book, however. Nellie's
desire for study grew with what it fed on. This book opened the way
for many. Reading led to reflection; reflection, to observation;
observation, to Nature; and thus in an endless round.

About this time her busy father remembered he possessed a "baby," laid
away somewhere, like an old parchment, and he concluded he would "look
her up." His surprise was great when he saw the child a woman--still
greater when he observed her self-possession, her intelligence, and a