Just on the edge of the wood stood a little cottage, surrounded by a quiet garden, bees humming about the flowers, the scents of which came with a homely sweetness on the air.  But here I saw something which I did not at first understand.  This was a group of three people, a man and a woman and a boy of about seventeen, beside the cottage porch.  They had a rustic air about them, and the same sort of leisurely look that all the people of the land wore.  They were all three beautiful, with a simple and appropriate kind of beauty, such as comes of a contented sojourn in the open air.  But I became in a moment aware that there was a disturbing element among them.  The two elders seemed to be trying to persuade the boy, who listened smilingly enough, but half turned away from them, as though he were going away on some errand of which they did not approve.  They greeted me, as I drew near, with the same cordiality as one received everywhere, and the man said, “Perhaps you can help us, sir, for we are in a trouble?” The woman joined with a murmur in the request, and I said I would gladly do what I could; while I spoke, the boy watched me earnestly, and something drew me to him, because I saw a look that seemed to tell me that he was, like myself, a stranger in the place.  Then the man said, “We have lived here together very happily a long time, we three—­I do not know how we came together, but so it was; and we have been more at ease than words can tell, after hard lives in the other world; and now this lad here, who has been our delight, says that he must go elsewhere and cannot stay with us; and we would persuade him if we could; and perhaps you, sir, who no doubt know what lies beyond the fields and woods that we see, can satisfy him that it is better to remain.”

While he spoke, the other two had drawn near to me, and the eyes of the woman dwelt upon the boy with a look of intent love, while the boy looked in my face anxiously and inquiringly.  I could see, I found, very deep into his heart, and I saw in him a need for further experience, and a desire to go further on; and I knew at once that this could only be satisfied in one way, and that something would grow out of it both for himself and for his companions.  So I said, as smilingly as I could, “I do not indeed know much of the ways of this place, but this I know, that we must go where we are sent, that no harm can befall us, and that we are never far away from those whom we love.  I myself have lately been sent to visit this strange land; it seems only yesterday since I left the mountains yonder, and yet I have seen an abundance of strange and beautiful things; we must remember that here there is no sickness or misfortune or growing old; and there is no reason, as there often seemed to be on earth, why we should fight against separation and departure.  No one can, I think, be hindered here from going where he is bound.  So I believe that you will let the boy go joyfully and willingly, for I am sure of this, that his journey holds not only great things for himself, but even greater things for both of you in the future.  So be content and let him depart.”