Then, One Morning, I Sat On The Front When The Black-Clothed
Group Came By, Deep In Serious Talk As Usual, The Silent Child With
Them, And After A Turn Or Two They Sat Down Beside Me.
The tide was at
its full and children were coming down to their old joyous pastime of
paddling.
They were a merry company. After watching them I glanced at
my little neighbour and caught her eyes, and she knew what the question
in my mind was - Why are not you with them? And she was pleased and
troubled at the same time, and her face was all at once in a glow of
beautiful colour; it was the colour of the almond blossom; - her sister
flower on this occasion.
A day or two later we were more fortunate. I went before breakfast to
the beach and was surprised to find her there watching the tide coming
in; in a moment of extreme indulgence her mother, or her people, had
allowed her to run down to look at the sea for a minute by herself. She
was standing on the shingle, watching the green waves break frothily at
her feet, her pale face transfigured with a gladness which seemed
almost unearthly. Even then in that emotional moment the face kept its
tender flower-like character; I could only compare it to the sweet-pea
blossom, ivory white or delicate pink; that Psyche-like flower with
wings upraised to fly, and expression of infantile innocence and fairy-
like joy in life.
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