How devoutly she listened to his tales of the land of the lotus-flowers! Ah, how vast was the world, how rich the knowledge of it, how varying the habits! Giulia was almost alarmed when Blanden told her of the woman at Luckwardie, on the hills of the Himalaya, high above the Pomona--every woman there belongs to four brothers. She lost herself completely in the breath of the fairy tale and flowery land, that is so lovely in its dreams and so vast in its thoughts. One after another Blanden unrolled these magically illuminated worlds of thought conceived by silent thinkers in penitents' garb and hermits' huts. Is the world but the veil, the dream, the existence?--why then is life full of nervous dread? Giulia felt herself strengthened by that dream-world of the Bast, everything painful and impious faded away in that mild, softening twilight. Blanden, too, seemed to be transfigured by the soothing influence of sickness, in the loneliness of the sick room, far removed from the world: like one of those thoughtful hermits, who, upon mossy banks in sacred groves, amongst flowers and gazelles, ponder upon the mystery of the world. She thus forgot that he, far from belonging to inactive dreamers, had only lately given a proof of western knightliness which is very different from the blood-fearing Hindoo; but yet he was filled with the warmest sympathy for Hindoo thinkers and poets. "How profound," said he often, "is the blending of the soul with all that their wise men teach. If the form break, the spirit becomes united with the Divine soul of the world, as a bottle in the deep mingles its contents with the sea, if it break against the rocks." Four lines of poetry, however, were, above all others, ineffaceably impressed in her memory, reflecting her situation, her mood, so truly that she trembled in her very soul when Blanden first recited them to her, verses culled from one of the two great hero books of India, containing such depth of thought as is not to be found either in the heroic poetry of Greece or Germany-- "Oh earthly happiness ever trembling on the brink, As dew drops kiss the flowers a moment but to sink; As logs on the ocean may meet and then sever So men here on earth, and to meet again--never." Blanden was obliged to kiss the tears from Giulia's eyes, which the grand verses of the Ramayana and the song of "trembling earthly happiness" had called forth.