"Must I tell you?" she cried. "It is she who should have been your mother, and she would not."
The children gazed, with calm, bright eyes. "What is a mother?" they asked.
"Alas! alas!" said the Angel; and her tears fell down like rain.
"Alas! alas!" moaned the gray Shape at the gate, and beat the shadow that was her breast, and trailed away in the gathering dusk.
IF THIS SHOULD BE
II
When the Little Sister went away, it was in such haste that she left her convent robes behind; and this troubled her so that she spoke of it to the Angel at the Gate. "You see," she said, "I had no idea that I was coming; I fell asleep in my cell, and woke up in this beautiful homelike place. But these white garments are not suitable for me; could I find a black robe, do you think?"
"Oh no!" said the Angel; "we all wear white here, and it is so much prettier and more becoming. Besides, you must make haste, for they have been waiting long for you."
"Who have been waiting?" asked the Little Sister in wonder.
"The children, to be sure!" said the Angel. "See! there they come, running to meet you."
The Little Sister looked, and there came hastening toward her a lovely band, little children and older ones, with floating locks and starry eyes, and all the eyes fixed on her with looks of love, and all the arms stretched out to her with gestures of longing.
"Oh, the darling, darling children!" cried the Little Sister. "Oh, the little angels! Now I know that this is heaven indeed."
She fell on her knees, and the children cl.u.s.tered round her, caressing her, and murmuring sweet words in her ear; and all in a moment the hunger that had been at her heart through the years was stilled, and she opened her arms and gathered the children to her breast and wept; happy tears were those!
"Sweethearts," cried the Little Sister; "dear loves, tell me, whose light and joy and blessing are you?"
"Yours, of course!" answered the children.
THE FEAST
The little Prince was coming; and in the dim, rich house that was his, some children were making ready a feast for him. They strewed sweet flowers, and lighted the candles, and made ready the table, white and fair, with the gold and silver service.
"It should stand here!" said one.
"Nay!" said another; "this is the place for it; and the candles must be over yonder." And he moved them.
"That I will never consent to!" said the first. "Let me do things properly, while you go and change your dress for a suitable one."
"I shall not change my dress!" said the second child.
"Oh, shame!" said the first.
While they wrangled, the children of the wood peeped in at the door, ragged and rosy and bright-eyed, and laughed, and ran away.
"Let us make a feast too," they said, "even if we have no fine things."
They set them down under a great oak tree that grew beside the way, and one gathered acorn cups, and another pulled burdock leaves and laid them for a cloth, and a third plucked the wild strawberries that shone like rubies in the gra.s.s.
"Here is a fine feast!" cried the wood children.
Just then along came the little Prince, and they called to him, "Come and play with us, and share our feast!"
"With all my heart!" said the little Prince. "But are there not other children in the house yonder who would like to join us?"
"Nay, they are busy quarrelling!" said the wood children.
"Then we do not want them!" said the little Prince. He sat down with them under the oak tree, and they all ate and drank and were right merry.
But the children in the dim, rich house pulled the table this way and that, and moved the lights. .h.i.ther and yon, and looked at their delicate robes and sighed: "The little Prince is long in coming!" they said.
THE SPIRIT
A man was toiling, seeking, toiling, by hot sun and cold moon, with pickaxe and with spade; and as he toiled there came a bright Spirit, and looked him in the face, and smiled.
"Who are you, fair Spirit?" asked the man. And the other answered, "My name is Truth!"
Then the man threw down his pick and spade, and ran, and brought costly robes and wrapped the Spirit in them; and set him on a throne, and bound him fast with chains of gold, and covered his face with a veil of precious web, and fell down and worshipped him. Happy man was he!
Now by and by as he worshipped a traveller came by that way, and stopped to look.
"Fair answer to your prayers, brother!" said the traveller. "What G.o.d do you worship?"
And the man said, "The Spirit of Truth."
"Nay!" said the other; "how can that be? I met that spirit but now upon the road. Gipsying along he was, light-foot, light-clad, and over his shoulder pickaxe and spade."
Then the man cried out in terror, and ran to the throne, and pulled the veil away, and tore the robes apart: and lo! the veil holding empty air, and the great robes folded in upon themselves, and the gold chains binding them.
THE ROOTS
A child found in its garden a plant. Fair and stately it was, full of rosy buds, with green leaves strong and luminous. The child admired it greatly.