She walked on, so filled with her new thoughts that the twilight deepened into starlight before she thought of home, and then it seemed that every star beam was an angel of love sent to guide her on her way. She entered quietly as Kate was playing one of Beethoven's symphonies, and never had music seemed so sweet. It was like a welcome into heaven. It was the heaven within her that made a heaven without.
To Kate had come such a realization of divine harmony, that her soul poured itself out in music she had never dreamed of before. All the struggles and pains of the past years, all the disappointments and unhappiness found expression through the wailing tones of the piano only to be swept away or swelled into sweeter and more joyous strains. More and more clearly a conception of joy and peace unspeakable filled her heart. She wandered again, a happy child, in country pastures gathering violets and buttercups. She could scent the clover and hear the birds. The water rippled over the pebbles and the air was filled with leaf music. Now, again a child, she "walked in green pastures and beside the still waters." The sun of love was shining down upon her, and its rays warmed her, clothed her, fed her. "Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever," she sang softly in an awed, hushed voice, as the music grew more divinely sweet, and the realization of a nameless Presence filled her. It was the presence of impersonal, omnipresent Truth, ever flowing into the heart ready for its reception, and though at first it may be but a tiny stream, it grows to a swelling tide, and all the words in the universe can not name its sweet influence, or describe its wondrous allness.
Oh, Katie darling, what wouldst thou have put away from thy life, if thou hadst obstinately refused admittance to this heavenly Guest?... At last the music ceased. She bowed her head and gave herself up to the inexpressible thoughts that welled into her mind. For some moments she was not aware that Grace was in the room, but as she finally arose and turned around, she saw her. Their eyes met, and silently was told the story of experiences too sacred to utter. A silent understanding and a heartfelt sympathy bound them by closer ties than they had ever known before. To be at one with Truth is to understand humanity, and understanding is a voiceless language.
Sunday afternoon they called on Mr. Hayden and found the fourth letter awaiting them.
"I did not send it up because Kate promised you would come over to-day, and now let us have a little experience meeting," he said, as he found chairs for them, and seated himself, seemingly awaiting a reply.
"First let us read the letter," suggested Grace, who was more interested than ever since her yesterday's experience.
"Read it aloud," said Mr. Hayden, settling himself back to enjoy it.
Grace had scarcely begun reading when Jamie came in, screaming that his finger was "boke."
"Never mind, Jamie, it will soon be all right. Shall papa treat it?" taking the child in his lap.
"Teat it, papa," and he laid his little head on papa's breast with perfect confidence that the pain would soon be gone. A few moments of silence and he looked up innocently, saying with the brightest smile: