Her eyes felt cleansed of all the doubtful sights they had ever met, and her mind shared in the cleansing. Her happiness was so deep that she did not know of it; for, as nearly as human beings may, she was seeing things filtered of self, and the wide winds were in her soul.
She had made two thick plaits by the time her father sank to the ground and leaned his head against her shoulder.
"I wish your mother could have seen this," he said.
"The dear soul would never have got here. And now she doesn't have to climb at all. She'll be very glad, you know, to be allowed to look down on it all without any trouble."
"I came here so often without her, but it was not time I could have spent with her. That comforts me. But there are little things one did or did not do. Theresa, when you love, don't be afraid to let your conduct reflect your heart."
"Well, am I not very nice to you?"
"Very nice, my dear; but I was thinking of a different kind of love."
"Oh, don't talk to me of that! Not till I'm middle-aged. Then, perhaps, I'll consider it, and marry a comfortable widower, slightly infirm, so that I can occasionally escape, but not ill enough to need nursing."
"You'll have no such jog-trot end, my dear. I hope you'll run in harness with a swifter steed."
"I don't want to be harnessed at all," she said, and lay back.