I knelt before her, and thanked her, and begged her to forgive me.
"Rise, rise," she said; "I have nothing to forgive; I thank you.

But now I must be gone, for I do not know how many may be waiting for me, here and there, through the dark forests; and they cannot come out till I come." She rose, and with a smile and a farewell, turned and left me.

I dared not ask her to stay; in fact, I could hardly speak to her.

Between her and me, there was a great gulf.

She was uplifted, by sorrow and well-doing, into a region I could hardly hope ever to enter.