was so filled by her own bright ecstacy。 She did not see him go;

for she was filled with light; which was of him。 Bright with an

amazing light as she was; how could she miss him。

In her bedroom she threw her arms in the air in clear pain of

magnificence。 Oh; it was her transfiguration; she was beyond

herself。 She wanted to fling herself into all the hidden

brightness of the air。 It was there; it was there; if she could

but meet it。

But the next day she knew he had gone。 Her glory had partly

died down……but never from her memory。 It was too real。 Yet

it was gone by; leaving a wistfulness。 A deeper yearning came

into her soul; a new reserve。

She shrank from touch and question。 She was very proud; but

very new; and very sensitive。 Oh; that no one should lay hands

on her!

She was happier running on by herself。 Oh; it was a joy to

run along the lanes without seeing things; yet being with them。

It was such a joy to be alone with all one's riches。

The holidays came; when she was free。 She spent most of her

time running on by herself; curled up in a squirrel…place in the

garden; lying in a hammock in the coppice; while the birds came

near……near……so near。 Oh; in rainy weather; she flitted

to the Marsh; and lay hidden with her book in a hay…loft。

All the time; she dreamed of him; sometimes definitely; but

when she was