and the girl was left out of sight in the shadows behind him. He did not
even turn back to look, for in some amazing sense she seemed to move on
beside him, as though some portion of her had merged into his being. He
carried her on with him. Some sweet and marvelous interchange they had
undergone together. He felt strangely blessed, soothed inwardly, made
complete, and more than twice on the way down the name he knew must
belong to her almost sprang up and revealed itself--yet never quite. He
knew it began with M, even with Mir--but could get nothing more. The
rest evaded him. He divined only a portion of the name. He had seen only
a portion of her form.

The first syllable, however, sang in him with an exquisitely sweet
authority. He was aware of some glorious new thing in the penetralia of
his little spirit, vibrating with happiness. Some portion of himself sang
with it. "For it really did vibrate," he said, "and no other word
describes it. It vibrated like music, like a string; as though when I
passed her she had taken a bow and drawn it across the strings of my
inmost being to make them sing...."

"Come," broke in the sonorous voice of the clergyman whom he found
standing in the hall; "I've been waiting for you."

It was said, not complainingly nor with any idea of fault-finding, but
rather--both tone and manner betrayed it--as a prelude to something of
importance about to follow. Somewhat impatiently Mr. Skale took his
companion by the arm and led him forwards; on the stone floor Spinrobin's
footsteps sounded light and dancing, like a child's. The clergyman
strode. At the dining room door he stopped, turning abruptly, and at the
same instant the figure of the young girl glided noiselessly towards
them from the mouth of the dark corridor where she had been waiting.