Left to ourselves, Cynthia and I sat awhile in silence, hand in hand,
like children, she looking anxiously at me. Our talk had broken down all
possible reserve between us; but what was strange to me was that I felt,
not like a lover with any need to woo, but as though we two had long
since been wedded, and had just come to a knowledge of each other's
hearts. At last we rose; and strange and bewildering as it all was, I
think I was perhaps happier at this time than at any other time in the
land of light, before or after.
And let me here say a word about these strange unions of soul that take
place in that other land. There is there a whole range of affections,
from courteous tolerance to intense passion. But there is a peculiar
bond which springs up between pairs of people, not always of different
sex, in that country. My relation with Amroth had nothing of that
emotion about it. That was simply like a transcendental essence of
perfect friendship; but there was a peculiar relation, between pairs of
souls, which seems to imply some curious duality of nature, of which
earthly passion is but a symbol. It is accompanied by an absolute
clearness of vision into the inmost soul and being of the other.
Cynthia's mind was as clear to me in those days as a crystal globe might
be which one could hold in one's hand, and my mind was as clear to her.
There is a sense accompanying it almost of identity, as if the other
nature was the exact and perfect complement of one's own; I can explain
this best by an image. Think of a sphere, let us say, of alabaster,
broken into two pieces by a blow, and one piece put away or mislaid. The
first piece, let us suppose, stands in its accustomed place, and the
owner often thinks in a trivial way of having it restored. One day,
turning over some lumber, he finds the other piece, and wonders if it
is not the lost fragment. He takes it with him, and sees on applying it
that the fractures correspond exactly, and that joined together the
pieces complete the sphere.
Even so did Cynthia's soul fit into mine. But I grew to understand later
the words of the Gospel--"they neither marry nor are given in marriage."
These unions are not permanent, any more than they are really permanent
on earth. On earth, owing to material considerations such as children
and property, a marriage is looked upon as indissoluble. But this takes
no account of the development of souls; and indeed many of the unions of
earth, the passion once over, do grow into a very noble and beautiful
friendship. But sometimes, even on earth, it is the other way; and
passion once extinct, two natures often realise their dissimilarities
rather than their similarities; and this is the cause of much
unhappiness. But in the other land, two souls may develop in quite
different ways and at a different pace. And then this relation may also
come quietly and simply to an end, without the least resentment or
regret, and is succeeded invariably by a very tender and true
friendship, each being sweetly and serenely content with all that has
been given or received; and this friendship is not shaken or fretted,
even if both of the lovers form new ties of close intimacy. Some natures
form many of these ties, some few, some none at all. I believe that, as
a matter of fact, each nature has its counterpart at all times, but does
not always succeed in finding it. But the union, when it comes, seems to
take precedence of all other emotions and all other work. I did not know
this at the time; but I had a sense that my work was for a time over,
because it seemed quite plain to me that as yet Cynthia was not in the
least degree suited to the sort of work which I had been doing.
We walked on together for some time, in a happy silence, though quiet
communications of a blessed sort passed perpetually between us without
any interchange of word. Our feet moved along the hillside, away from
the crags, because I felt that Cynthia had no strength to climb them;
and I wondered what our life would be.
Presently a valley opened before us, folding quietly in among the hills,
full of a golden haze; and it seemed to me that our further way lay down
it. It fell softly and securely into a further plain, the country being
quite unlike anything I had as yet seen--a land of high and craggy
mountains, the lower parts of them much overgrown with woods; the valley
itself widened out, and passed gently among the hills, with here and
there a lake. Dotted all about the mountain-bases, at the edges of the
woods, were little white houses, stone-walled and stone-tiled, with
small gardens; and then the place seemed to become strangely familiar
and homelike; and I became aware that I was coming home: the same
thought occurred to Cynthia; and at last, when we turned a corner of
the road, and saw lying a little back from the road a small house, with
a garden in front of it, shaded by a group of sycamores, we darted
forwards with a cry of delight to the home that was indeed our own. The
door stood open as though we were certainly expected. It was the
simplest little place, just a pair of rooms very roughly and plainly
furnished. And there we embraced with tears of joy.