The time moved on quietly enough in the land of delight. I made
acquaintance with quite a number of the soft-voiced contented folk.
Sometimes it interested me to see the change coming upon one or another,
a wonder or a desire that made them sit withdrawn and abstracted, and
breaking with a sort of effort out of the dreamful mood. Then they would
leave us, sometimes quite suddenly, sometimes with courteous adieus.
New-comers, too, kept arriving, to be made pleasantly at home. I found
myself seeing more of Cynthia. She was much with Lucius, and they seemed
as gay as ever, but I saw that she was sometimes puzzled. She said to me
one day as we sat together, "I wish you would tell me what this is all
about? I do not want to change it, and I am very happy, but isn't it all
rather pointless? I believe you have some secret you are keeping from
me." She was sitting close beside me, like a child, resting her head on
my arm, and she took my hand in both of hers.
"No," I said, "I am keeping nothing from you, pretty child! I could not
explain to you what is in my mind, and it would spoil your pleasure if I
could. It is all right, and you will see in good time."
"I hate to be put off like that," she said. "You are not really
interested in me; and you do not trust me; you do not care about the
things I care about, and if you are so superior, you ought to explain to
me why."
"Well," I said, "I will try to explain. Do you ever remember having been
very happy in a place, and having been obliged to leave it, always
hoping to return; and then when you did return, finding that, though
nothing was changed, you were yourself changed, and could not, even if
you would, have taken up the old life again?"
"Yes," said Cynthia, musing, "I remember that sort of thing happening
once, about a house where I stayed as a child. It seemed so stupid and
dull when I went back that I wondered how I could ever have really liked
it."
"Well," I said, "it is the same sort of thing here. I am only here for a
time, and though I do not know where I am going or when, I think I shall
not be here much longer."
At this Cynthia did what she had never done before--she kissed me. Then
she said, "Don't speak of such disagreeable things. I could not get on
without you. You are so convenient, like a comfortable old arm-chair."
"What a compliment!" I said. "But you see that you don't like my
explanation. Why trouble about it? You have plenty of time. Is Lucius
like an arm-chair, too?"
"No," she said, "he is exciting, like a new necklace--and Charmides, he
is exciting too, in a way, but rather too fine for me, like a
ball-dress!"
"Yes," I said, "I noticed that your own taste in dress is different of
late. This is a much simpler thing than what you came in."
"Oh, yes," she said, "it doesn't seem worth while to dress up now. I
have made my friends, and I suppose I am getting lazy."
We said little more, but she did not seem inclined to leave me, and was
more with me for a time. I actually heard her tell Lucius once that she
was tired, at which he laughed, not very pleasantly, and went away.
But my own summons came to me so unexpectedly that I had but little time
to make my farewell.
I was sitting once in a garden-close watching a curious act proceeding,
which I did not quite understand. It looked like a religious ceremony; a
man in embroidered robes was being conducted by some boys in white
dresses through the long cloister, carrying something carefully wrapped
up in his arms, and I heard what sounded like an antique hymn of a fine
stiff melody, rapidly sung.
There had been nothing quite like this before, and I suddenly became
aware that Amroth was beside me, and that he had a look of anger in his
face. "You had better not look at this," he said to me; "it might not be
very helpful, as they say."
"Am I to come with you?" I said. "That is well--but I should like to say
a word to one or two of my friends here."
"No, not a word!" said Amroth quickly. He looked at me with a curious
look, in which he seemed to be measuring my strength and courage. "Yes,
that will do!" he added. "Come at once--don't be surprised--it will be
different from what you expect."
He took me by the arm, and we hurried from the place; one or two of the
people who stood by looked at us in lazy wonder. We walked in silence
down a long alley, to a great gate that I had often passed in my
strolls. It was a barred iron gate, of a very stately air, with high
stone gateposts. I had never been able to find my outward way to this,
and there was a view from it of enchanting beauty, blue distant woods
and rolling slopes. Amroth came quickly to the gate, seemed to unlock
it, and held it open for me to pass. "One word," he said with his most
beautiful smile, his eyes flashing and kindling with some secret
emotion, "whatever happens, do not be _afraid_! There is nothing
whatever to fear, only be prepared and wait." He motioned me through,
and I heard him close the gate behind me.