He hardly knew that he had spoken aloud; yet challenged, he tried to
explain. "Inspiration to new life and faith in things," he answered
almost at random. But hearing the words pronounced by his own voice,
made him realize that they were true. This child, of whose existence he
had not known a week ago, could give him--perhaps was already giving
him--new faith and new interests. He felt thankful for her, somehow,
though she did not belong to him, and never would--unless a gleam of
sunshine can belong to one on whom it shines. And he would always
associate her with the golden sunshine and the magic charm of Algeria.
"I told you I'd given you half my star," she said, laughing and blushing
a little.
"Which star is it?" he wanted to know. "When I don't see you any more, I
can look up and hitch my thought-wagon to Mars or Venus."
"Oh, it's even grander than any planet you can see, with your real eyes.
But you can look at the evening star if you like. It's so thrilling in
the sunset sky, I sometimes call it my star."
"All right," said Stephen, with his elder-brother air. "And when I look
I'll think of you."
"You can think of me as being with Saidee at last."
"You have the strongest presentiment that you'll find her without
difficulty."
"When _I_ say 'presentiment,' I mean creating a thing I want, making a
picture of it happening, so it _has_ to happen by and by, as God made
pictures of this world, and all the worlds, and they came true.
Pages:
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154