Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; San Francisco (Calif.) -- Fiction
She could not trace its shy beginning, but she was aware of it first
as a sense of the humanity in the cells of that luminous honeycomb
below, the struggling, hoping, fighting, aspiring mass, each unit a
thing to love, did one but know the best. The wave of love universal
beat so strong on her heart that she turned her eyes away for surfeit
of rapture, and looked up to the stars. They, the bright angels of
judgment whose infinite spaces she could not contemplate without fear,
united themselves in some mysterious bond with the little human
things below; the sight of them brought the same wave of rapture. Too
mighty long to be endured, the wave broke into ripples of happy
contemplation. Sounding lines of forgotten poems ran through her mind,
movements of old symphonies, memories of her vicarious raptures before
the altar in the convent, glimpses of hillsides and valleys and woods
in the winter rain which she had seen unseeing that she might reserve
their deeper meaning for this deeper sight of the spirit. "I wonder if
this is not happiness; if Heaven will not be so?" she thought. It
came, too, that if this exaltation lasted a moment longer, she should
know with God the meaning of all things, the Reason which united stars
and space and men and the works of men.
The resonant bass of Bertram Chester, beating down Kate's cheerful
treble, floated up from the sidewalk. The sound came almost as a
relief; yet on second thought she was a little sorry for their
intrusion into this lonely rapture of the spirit. She looked over the
wall. Kate, revealed in the light of their gate-lamp, walked between
the two men, who were bending toward her; now they were all laughing
together. She was radiant, this firm-fleshed, golden flower of the
West. Eleanor dipped from her clouds of glory to notice that she wore
a new tailor gown, that every touch of her costume showed how she had
got herself up for that special occasion. And now the spiritual fluid
in Eleanor transmuted itself into a reckless gaiety. She slipped down
the steps and confronted them on the sidewalk.
"Hello," said Kate, looking her over. "Well, who's given you a
present?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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