is not really Sibyl Andrés, you know--any more than you really live over
there in that little house. Your real home is in the mountains--just as
you said--you _really_ live among the glowing peaks, under the dark pines,
on the ridges, and in the purple shadows of the canyons. You only come
down here to the Fairlands folk with a message from your mountains--and
_we_ call your message music. Your name is--"

She was leaning forward, her face glowing with eagerness. "What is my
name?"

"What can it be but 'Nature'," he said softly. "That's it, 'Nature'."

"And you? Who are you when you are not--when you are not in that other
world?"

"Me? Oh, my real name is 'Civilization'. Can't you guess why?"

She shook her head. "Tell me."

"Because,--in spite of all that the world that reads my books can
give,--poor old 'Civilization' cannot be happy without the message that
'Nature' brings from her mountains."

"And you, too, love the mountains and--and this garden, and my music?" she
asked half doubtingly. "You are not pretending that too--just to amuse
me?"

"No, I am not pretending that," he said.

"Then why--how can you do the--the other thing? I can't understand."