Surely its deepest significance is life, happy, hopeful life, with escape
from its grosser elements, and as you stood there you embodied that
idea."
"Oh, Webb," she cried, in comic perplexity, "you are getting too deep for
me. I was only arranging flowers, and not thinking about embodying
anything. But go on."
"If you had been, you would have spoiled everything," he resumed,
laughing. "I can't explain; I can only suggest the rest in a sentence or
two. Look at the shadow creeping up yonder mountain--very dark blue on
the lower side of the moving line and deep purple above. Listen to these
birds around us. Well, every day I see and hear and appreciate these
things better, and I thought that you were to blame."
"Am I very much to blame?" she inquired, archly.
"Yes, very much," was his laughing answer. "It seems to me that a few
months since I was like the old man with the muck-rake in 'Pilgrim's
Progress,' seeking to gather only money, facts, and knowledge--things of
use. I now am finding so much that is useful which I scarcely looked at
before that I am revising my philosophy, and like it much better. The
simple truth is, I needed just such a sister as you are to keep me from
plodding."
Burt now appeared with a handful of rue-anemones, obtained by a rapid
climb to a very sunny nook. They were the first of the season, and he
justly believed that Amy would be delighted with them. But the words of
Webb were more treasured, for they filled her with a pleased wonder.
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