"And—since then?"
"Madre, he has played it since then for me."
Charmian got up from her chair. She stood by the fire. Her thin body showed in clear outline against the flames, but her face was a little in shadow.
"Madretta," she began, and was silent.
"Yes?" said Mrs. Mansfield.
"Susan Fleet and I were once talking about theosophy. And Susan said a thing I have never forgotten."
"What was that?"
"She said: 'It's a long journey up the Ray.' I didn't understand. And she explained that by the Ray she meant the bridge that leads from the personal which perishes to the immortal which endures. Madre, I shall always be very personal, I think. I can't help it. I don't know that I even want to help it. But—but I do believe that in America, that night after the opera, I took a long, long step on the journey up the Ray. I must have, I think, because that night I was happy."
Her eyes became almost mysterious in the firelight. She looked down and added, in a withdrawn voice:
"I was happy in failure!"