"I don't think you go below the surface," I ventured. "It seems to me that the entire reason is simple want of faith, a vague uncertainty as to the coming back of the dried-up leaf and flower, when they perish, and a fear, though unexpressed, that the sun is going down out of your sight for the last time, and you would hold it a little longer."
"Would you now to-night, Lucy?"
"If I could."
My husband did not speak again for a long time, and gradually I went back into my individuality.
We came upon an eminence outside the river-valley, and within sight of the village.
"Is it well? do you like it?" asked Saul.
The village was nested in among the elms to such a degree that I could only reply,—
"I am certain that I shall, when I find out what it is."
Saul stayed the impatient horse at the point where we then were, and, indicating a height above and a depth below, told me the legend of the naming of his village.
It was given thus:—