She had never felt so alive, so well tuned to life, so passionately eager for its every manifestation as when, after a hurried breakfast, she started up the beautiful green hill to the trees where all the birds were singing—the soft breath of the spring enfolding her, her spirit lifting itself up to meet the caress of the spirit of spring. She walked with long, swinging step, smiling to herself, humming a glad little air, now and then tossing her head just to get the breath of spring upon her face in some new way. Mrs. Rolfe watched her from the kitchen door, smiling.
On the hill-top she stopped, standing straight, breathing deep, revelling in the song of the birds—they were fairly intoxicated with joy at this morning—listening to the soft murmur of the spring beneath it all—happy—oh so happy, as she looked off to the far distances. The long winter had gone, and now the spring had come again—the dear spring she had always loved!
It was with her too almost an intoxication—the throwing off of gloom, the taking on of joy. On such a morning nature calls unto her chosen, and they hear her call, and are glad. As she stood there on her hill-top her spirit lifted itself up in lyric utterance; her whole being responded to the songs of the returning birds.
How well Dr. Parkman had planned it! She would go back now and tell Karl what a great thing it was to be alive, how the spirit was everything, and could conquer all else. It seemed very easy now. It was all a matter of getting the spirit right;—how good of Dr. Parkman to think it out like this.
But there was something a little wrong. She stopped for a minute, pondering. Now she knew! Karl!—why could he not be here too? All in an instant she saw it so clearly that she laughed aloud. She was rested now—ready to tell him—and this the place! She would send for him! Mr. Ross—or perhaps the doctor himself—would come with him, and here where it was all so beautiful, where the call of the spring reached them and made them glad—she would tell him! And then, his spirit strong as hers was now strong, he would respond to it, be made ready for the fight.
How simple and how splendid! How stupid not to have thought of this before! And then again she laughed. It would be fun to improve on Dr. Parkman's idea. That was all very well—but this a thousand times better. Karl's spirit too needed lifting up;—what could do it as this? It was true he could not see it with his eyes—but there were so many other ways of being part of it: the singing of the birds, the scent of the budding trees, the rich breath of spring upon one's face. And even the vision should not be lost to him. She would make him see it! She would make him see the sunlight upon the trees, the roll of that farther hillside—one did not need to try to forget the park commissioners here!—and then she would say to him: "See, Karl—even as I can make you see the trees and that little brook there in the hollow, just as plainly as I can make you see the sky and the hill come together off there—so plainly will I make you see the things in the laboratory which belong with your work." She would prove to him by the picture she drew of these green fields in spring-time that she could make plain to him all he must see. How glorious to prove it to him by the spring-time!
And then, both of them uplifted, gladdened, both of them believing it could be done, loving each other more than they had ever done before, newly assured of the power of love, they would go back and with firm faith and deep joy begin the work which lay before them.
She turned to walk back to the house. She would send a telegram to Dr. Parkman that Karl must come. Perhaps he could be here to-night;—to-morrow, surely. Dear Karl—who needed a vacation more than he? Who needed the rejuvenation of the spring as Karl needed it?
She had walked but a little way when she stopped. Someone was coming toward her, walking fast. Had the sun grown a little dim—or was something passing before her eyes? The world seemed to darken. She looked again at Mrs. Rolfe, coming toward her. How strange that she shivered! Was it a little chilly up here on the hill-top where a minute before it had been so soft and warm? She wanted to go to meet Mrs. Rolfe, but she did not; she stood strangely still, waiting. And why was it that the figure of Mrs. Rolfe was such a blur on the beauty of the hillside?
But when at last she saw her face she did run to meet her. "What is the matter?"—her voice was quick and sharp.