But Helena read with a growing excitement, as though the flashing mysterious verse were part of her very being.

When the last stanza was done, she flung herself fiercely down on a stool at Mrs.Friend's feet, breathing fast: "Glorious!--oh, glorious!-- "Look now where Colour, the soul's bridegroom, makes The House of Heaven splendid for the Bride." She turned to look up at the little figure in the chair, half laughing, half passionate: "You do understand, don't you ?" Mrs.Friend again shook her head despairingly.
"It sounds wonderful--but I haven't a notion what it means!" Helena laughed again, but without a touch of mockery.
"One has to be taught--coached--regularly coached.

Julian coached me." "What is meant by Colour ?" asked Mrs.Friend faintly.
"Colour is Passion, Beauty, Freedom!" said Helena, her cheek glowing.

"It is just the opposite of dulness--and routine--and make-believe.

It's what makes life worth while.