"That's what Secret worlds are for," I told her, "----that, no matter how far apart we are, our spirits may come and meet; live again, as we've lived here; be happy again--as I've been." I turned, saying with a laugh that was meant to convey an impression of insouciance--yet failing rather miserably: "These two big pines here, Princess, actually make the gateway to my pool--which is, in fact, my Secret world, because you helped me build my home there. So, you see, it wouldn't be very difficult, as you were about to enter without knowing it. Oh, I wish I could tell you more about it!" And I then became silent, too helplessly afraid to go on. A brighter color had come into her throat and cheeks, but she was smiling whimsically as she said: "Then we must go around--find another path to the fort--mustn't we!" She had stopped before me, poised delicately, almost swaying; and for several seconds our eyes, that must have been charged with some untranslatable excitement, held fast. Mine would not let go, and hers I believe could not. Her hands, idly at her sides, were turned palms forward, unconsciously suggestive of supplication. "Do you know what you remind me of when you stand that way?" I asked. "No," She looked away now, laughing lightly--though it was more subtly than suddenly done. "What?" "Of a fairy that's flown from a butterfly moon, just alighting at my threshold and asking to come in." "Wouldn't a fairy be unseemly forward to come to a young man's threshold and ask admittance?" "Not admittance, but admission--to my dreams, where nothing is real but you and beauty." "Dreams are for the old, the young shall see visions!--isn't there a quotation like that?" she asked, smiling. "You're not playing fair," I laughed--for I was afraid not to laugh, wanting desperately to say that I was seeing the vision now that would be my dream forever! "I'll play fair if I know the rules," she also laughed. "You haven't told them to me!" "We'll make them up as we go along!" "But what are we going to play?" "Make-believe," I eagerly cried. "That we're exploring our Secret world where we'll come after,"--there was no laugh in my voice now--"you've gone to Azuria, and I'm here alone." She gave my face a quick, searching look. "And we only have to pass between these two big trees?" she asked, half lightly, half timidly. "Only through that gateway, and we're in our world!" "Why should I go, I wonder?" The question was whispered, almost unconsciously, and catching the tone of it I also whispered: "To plant a memory, Doloria, that will grow and bloom as long as we live; where each of us may come--when we're lonely."