"And you were afraid, dearest?" He held her closer; his strength nerved her. Oh, welcome humanity!
"Afraid? No—oh, no, it wasn't fear."
"What then, dear one?"
"I can't explain it. If only you had been with me!" She clung to him.
"I should not have seen him, Meg, it is not meant that I should. Look, darling, I have been near you—I was making a sketch of the sunrise."
Meg looked in wonder at the sketch. There was no figure there; that was the only point of interest it contained for her at the moment.
"It is not there," she said disappointedly; her voice expressed astonishment. "Then you saw nothing?"
"Nothing of what you saw."
"Then why does it come to me? I am the very last person to understand, to desire it."
"Dearest, the wisdom of God's ways is past our present very limited understanding. Why did He make the world as He did? Why did He form the mountains by the drifting of particles into the ocean? Why did He evolve the spirit of man from a source which has baffled science? Why does He let us know so much and understand so little?"