Angelica—But I, when I was lost, stopped and listened, and in my soul I heard a Voice telling me to go this way to the right, and pretty soon to stop and turn off and so I turned off, and by and by I heard the voice again saying, “stop and turn;” and again, “now to the right” and then; “turn down the little way;” and then at last, “turn by the wheel;” and then I reached the Great Cross; and so I crept along, listening all the way, and at last reached our hut.
Jean—Now what might that Voice be?
Angelica—Jean, I do not know; but I have sometimes thought—don’t laugh!—but I have sometimes thought the Voice came from this wonderful ring of mine; at any rate, when I do what the Voice says, the opal glows out so in the dark that I cannot keep from singing.
Jean—But suppose you do not do what the Voice says?
Angelica—Then the ring fades down as if it were disappointed and saddened.
Jean—Angelica, you are a wonderful dreamer. But I don’t really see much difference between your way and mine, only that what you call the Voice, I call considering. That’s all the difference.
Angelica—O no, but there is a great deal more difference than just that, for I heard other voices too. Do you never hear voices?
Jean—No, never! Never heard a one.
Angelica—Never heard your mother’s voice?
Jean—Mother’s? No. I was too little when she disappeared anyway; I never knew anything about her.