"How far is the Nereid?"
"It takes the Titian," said she, looking at the big launch at anchor beyond the warehouse, "about an hour to go there. You know, the bottom of the sea is much more beautiful than the land—the land around here anyway—it's even more beautiful than my flowers. It has great valleys, cliffs, caves and forests, all kinds of varicolored trees, all for the fish, and the sponge divers are the only people who ever see them. Daddy says one place is five miles deep. Oh, I would like to go down there, but I can't."
"Tell me more about Nereid. I am anxious to know."
"Oh, yes. After I could get in we got the most wonderful sponges and I would hand them out to Daddy. We went there for months and I was glad. I love to go and always hated to leave, for it was such a beautiful place. You see, I got so I could stay down longer than Daddy and the sharks could not get in and so I would just rest. Sharks are bad here and we have to keep moving every second or they attack. I could see a light there, but it was not like the sun. It made everything in the cave so bright and I could hear music at times that made me dream. It was heavenly. There were gold, green and other colors I can't describe, the sides and roof looked like diamonds and colored stones I never saw before. The long halls and rooms farther back I was unable to enter."
"Your father was never able to get into Nereid?"
"No; that's why he won't let me go any more. I would stay so long he would have to give me oxygen to bring me to. Then the beautiful things and music would become plainer and I hoped I never would come out. I would imagine I was in the North country about which Daddy tells me, where you live, where everyone hears sweet music, thousands of voices singing, a long way off but plainly. I—I thought my mother was among them. I imagined I saw rows of wonderful books, and pretty pictures, beautiful women, and grand-looking men all dressed up who knew everything—isn't that the way things are in great cities, with fine houses, tall buildings that reach the sky, and beautiful parks?"
This question was asked pleadingly, revealing a deep longing for the big world outside, a world of mystery to her, "but maybe it was only a dream," she added, with a plaintive little sigh.
"Yes, the world is full of good men and women and beautiful things, if we see them rightly," I replied, as I walked beside her to the steps of the veranda, marveling at her simplicity. "I think you must have a wonderful father," I concluded, as we went up the steps.
"Oh, he is indeed; we talk so much about everything and especially about the time I must leave him and go to school. I will be so lonesome for him—I do so love my Daddy. But if you are to get that train, the same as yesterday, I will have to hurry, as there are a lot of things we need to order."