But this evening all was unknown save the joy and peace of a real home.  They went to bed early, Joe in the room next the office, his mother in the adjoining room next the kitchen, but neither slept for a long time.  They lay awake tingling with a strange happiness, a fine freedom, a freshness of re-created life.  Only to the pioneer comes this thrill of a new-made Eden, only to those who tear themselves from the easy ruts and cut hazardous clearings in the unventured wilderness.  It is like being made over, like coming with fresh heart and eyes upon the glories of the earth; it is the only youth of the world.

The night grew late and marvelously hushed, a silence almost oppressive, where every noise seemed like an invader, and Joe, lying there keenly awake, seemed to feel the throb of the world, the pauseless pulsations of that life that beats in every brain and every heart of the earth; that life that, more intense than human love and thought, burns in the suns that swing about heaven rolling the globe of earth among them; that life that enfolds with tremendous purpose the little human creature in the vastness, that somehow expresses itself and heightens and changes itself in human lives and all the dreams and doings of men.  Joe felt that life, thrilling to it, opening his heart to it, letting it surcharge and overflow his being with strength and joy.  And he knew then that he lay as in a warm nest of the toilers and the poor, that crowded all about him in every direction were sleeping men and women and little children, all recently born, all soon to die, he himself shortly to be stricken out of these scenes and these sensations.  It was all mystery unplumbable, unbelievable ... that this breath was not to go on forever, that this brain was to be stopped off, this heart cease like a run-down clock, this exultation and sorrow to leave like a mist, scattered in that life that bore it....  That he, Joe Blaine, was to die!

Surely life was marvelous and sacred; it was not to be always a selfish scramble, a money rush, a confusion and jumble, but rather something of harmony and mighty labors and mingled joys.  He felt great strength; he felt equal to his purposes; he was sure he could help in the advancing processes....  Even as he was part of the divine mystery, so he could wield that divineness in him to lift life to new levels, while the breath was in his body, while the glow was in his brain.

And he thought of Myra, his mate in the mystery, and in the night he yearned for her, hungered through all his being.  She had written him a note; it came to him from the mountains.  It ran: