“Well,” I said, “there are some surprises here!  I am afraid I am very youthful yet.”

“Yes, dear child, you are very ingenuous,” said Amroth, “and that is a great part of your charm.  But we will find something for you to do before long!  But here comes Charmides, to talk about the need of exquisite pulsations, and their symbolism—­though I see a change in him too.  And now I must go back to business.  Take care of yourself, and I will be back to tea.”  And Amroth flashed away in a very cheerful mood.

XV

There were many things at that time that were full of mystery, things which I never came to understand.  There was in particular a certain sort of people, whom one met occasionally, for whom I could never wholly account.  They were unlike others in this fact, that they never appeared to belong to any particular place or community.  They were both men and women, who seemed—­I can express it in no other way—­to be in the possession of a secret so great that it made everything else trivial and indifferent to them.  Not that they were impatient or contemptuous—­it was quite the other way; but to use a similitude, they were like good-natured, active, kindly elders at a children’s party.  They did not shun conversation, but if one talked with them, they used a kind of tender and gentle irony, which had something admiring and complimentary about it, which took away any sense of vexation or of baffled curiosity.  It was simply as though their concern lay elsewhere; they joined in anything with a frank delight, not with any touch of condescension.  They were even more kindly and affectionate than others, because they did not seem to have any small problems of their own, and could give their whole attention and thought to the person they were with.  These inscrutable people puzzled me very much.  I asked Amroth about them once.

“Who are these people,” I said, “whom one sometimes meets, who are so far removed from all of us?  What are they doing here?”

Amroth smiled.  “So you have detected them!” he said.  “You are quite right, and it does your observation credit.  But you must find it out for yourself.  I cannot explain, and if I could, you would not understand me yet.”

“Then I am not mistaken,” I said, “but I wish you would give me a hint—­they seem to know something more worth knowing than all beside.”

“Exactly,” said Amroth.  “You are very near the truth; it is staring you in the face; but it would spoil all if I told you.  There is plenty about them in the old books you used to read—­they have the secret of joy.”  And that is all that he would say.