his hilltop — and beloved, sunlit mountains. In the radiance of the spring, she saw them, and in the glory of the autumn; she breathed the fragrance of the pines in winter and heard the soft patter of summer rains on widespreading leaves. She saw David walking at her side, and heard his laugh, sun-bright and glorious he seemed, her Ph�bus Apollo — the father of her little son.
She saw the terrible sea which she had crossed to come to him — the white-crested waves, with turquoise lights and indigo depths, shifting and sliding unceasingly where all the world seemed swallowed in space, and the huge steamship so small a thing in the vast and perilous deep; and now — now she was here. What was she? What was life?
She had tried to find him, her David, and had been shown