“You make it so clear, and your face is so bright,” said our little Pilgrim gratefully, “you must have known a great deal, and understood even when you were in the world.”

“I was as foolish as I could be,” said the other, with her laugh that was as sweet as music; “yet thought I knew, and they thought I knew.  But all that does not matter now.”

“I think it matters, for look how much you have showed me.  But tell me one thing more:  how was it said to you that you must go and tell him?  Was it some one who spoke?  Was it—­”

Her face grew so bright that all the past brightness was as a dull sky to this.  It gave out such a light of happiness, that the little Pilgrim was dazzled.

“I was wandering about,” she said, “to see this new place.  My mother had come back between two errands she had, and had come to see me and tell me everything; and I was straying about, wondering what I was to do, when suddenly I saw some one coming along, as it might be now—­”

She paused and looked up, and the little Pilgrim looked up too, with her heart beating, but there was no one.  Then she gave a little sigh, and turned and listened again.

“I had not been looking for him, or thinking.  You know my mind is too light; I am pleased with whatever is before me.  And I was so curious, for my mother had told me many things; when suddenly I caught sight of him passing by.  He was going on, and when I saw this a panic seized me, lest he should pass and say nothing.  I do not know what I did.  I flung myself upon his robe, and got hold of it,—­or at least I think so.  I was in such an agony lest he should pass and never notice me.  But that was my folly.  He pass!  As if that could be!”

“And what did he say to you?” cried the little Pilgrim, her heart almost aching, it beat so high with sympathy and expectation.

The lady looked at her for a little without saying anything.

“I cannot tell you,” she said, “any more than I can tell if this is heaven.  It is a mystery.  When you see him you will know.  It will be all you have ever hoped for, and more besides, for he understands everything.  He knows what is in our hearts about those we have left, and why he sent for us before them.  There is no need to tell him anything, he knows.  He will come when it is time; and after you have seen him you will know what to do.”

Then the beautiful lady turned her eyes toward the gate, and while the little Pilgrim was still gazing, disappeared from her, and went to comfort some other stranger.  They were dear friends always, and met often, but not again in the same way.

When she was thus left alone again, the little Pilgrim sat still upon the grassy mound, quite tranquil and happy, without wishing to move.  There was such a sense of well-being in her, that she liked to sit there and look about her, and breathe the delightful air, like the air of a summer morning, without wishing for anything.