I did not know what I believed. But you spoke so simply, and I knew
you were speaking the truth. Then you spoke just as naturally of Wee
Brown Elspeth. That startled me because not long before I had been told
the tale in the Highlands by a fine old story-teller who is the head of
his clan. I saw you had never heard the story before. And yet you were
telling me that you had played with the child."
"He came home and told me about you," Mrs. MacNairn said. "His fear of
The Fear was more for me than for himself. He knew that if he brought
you to me, you who are more complete than we are, clearer-eyed and
nearer, nearer, I should begin to feel that he was not going--out. I
should begin to feel a reality and nearness myself. Ah, Ysobel! How we
have clung to you and loved you! And then that wonderful afternoon! I
saw no girl with her hand through Mr. Le Breton's arm; Hector saw none.
But you saw her. She was THERE!"
"Yes, she was there," I answered. "She was there, smiling up at him. I
wish he could have known."
What does it matter if this seems a strange story? To some it will mean
something; to some it will mean nothing. To those it has a meaning for
it will open wide windows into the light and lift heavy loads. That
would be quite enough, even if the rest thought it only the weird fancy
of a queer girl who had lived alone and given rein to her silliest
imaginings.
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