"I wonder," he began, slowly, not seeming sure of what he wanted to say—"how much the comprehension, the understanding of things, that the loss would bring, would make up for the success taken away? I wonder just what the defeated fellow could work out of that?"
"But dearie, is it true? Why can failure comprehend success any more than success can comprehend failure?"
"It's different," he said, shortly.
"How do you know?" she asked banteringly. "What do you know about it? You don't even know how to spell the word failure!"
He started to say something, but stopped, and then he stooped over and rested his head for a minute upon her hair. "Tell me about your picture, Ernestine," he said, quietly, after that. "Tell me just what it is."
"The Hidden Waterfall? Why you know it, Karl."
"Yes, but I want to hear you talk about it. I want to hear you tell just what it means."
"Well, you remember it is a child standing in a beautiful part of the woods. It is spring-time, as it seems best it should be when you are painting a child in the woods. I tried to make the picture breathe spring, and you know one of the writers said that the delicious thing about it was the way you got the smell of the woods;—that pleased me. Behind the child, visible in the picture, but invisible to the child, is a waterfall. The most vital thing in the universe to me was to have that waterfall make a sound. I think it does, or the picture wouldn't mean anything at all. And then of course the heart of the picture is in the child's face—the puzzled surprise, the glad wonder, and then deeper than that the response to something which cannot be understood. It might have been called 'Wondering,' or even 'Mystery,' but I liked the simpler title better. And I like that idea of painting, not just nature, but what nature means to man. I want to get at the response—the thing awakened—the things given back. Don't you see how that translates the spirit there is between nature and man—stands for the oneness?"
He nodded, seeming to be thinking. "I see," he said at last. "I wonder if you know all that means?"
"Why, yes, I think I do. My next picture will get at it in a—um—a more mature way."