same, for it seemed to us quite natural and even right that everybody should shrink away from it because it was so horrible; though that should only make them the more kind; just as we feel we must be more tender and loving to any one who is deformed, and the more shocking his deformity the more tender and loving.  And what, I thought, if this poor spirit had come by any chance to ask for something; if it were in pain and longed for relief, or sinful and longed for forgiveness?  How dreadful then that other beings should turn from it, instead of going to meet it and comfort it—­so dreadful that I almost wished that I might see it, and have the strength to speak to it!  And it came into my head that this might happen, for often and often when I have been very anxious to serve some one, the wish has been granted in a quite wonderful way.  So when I said my prayers, I asked especially that if it should appear to me, I might have strength to forget all selfish fear and try only to know what it wanted.  And as I prayed the foolish shrinking dread we have of such things seemed to fade away; just as when I have prayed for those towards whom I felt cold or unforgiving, the hardness has all melted away into love towards them.  And after that came to me that lovely feeling which we all have sometimes—­in church, or when we are praying alone, or more often in the open air, on beautiful summer days when it is warm and still; as if one’s heart were beating and overflowing with love towards everything in this world and in all the worlds; as if the very grasses and the stones were clear, but dearest of all, the creatures that still suffer, so that to wipe away their tears forever, one feels that one would die—­oh die so gladly!  And always as if this were something not our own, but part of that wonderful great Love above us, about us, everywhere, clasping us all so tenderly and safely!”

Here her voice trembled and failed; she waited a little and then went on, “Ah, I am too stupid to say rightly what I mean, but you who are clever will understand.

“It was so sweet that I knelt on, drinking it in for a long time; not praying, you know, but just resting, and feeling as if I were in heaven, till all at once, I cannot explain why, I moved and looked round.  It was there at the other end of the room.  It was ...—­much worse than I had dreaded it would be; as if it looked out of some great horror deeper than I could understand.  The loving feeling was gone, and I was afraid—­so much afraid, I only wanted to get out of sight of it.  And I think I would have gone, but it stretched out its hands to me as if it were asking for something, and then, of course, I could not go.  So, though I was trembling a little, I went nearer and looked into its face.  And after that I was not afraid any more, I was too sorry for it; its poor poor eyes were so full of anguish.  I cried:  ’Oh, why do you look at me like that?  Tell me what I shall do.’

“And directly I spoke I heard it moan.  Oh, George, oh, Mr. Lyndsay, how can I tell you what that moaning was like!  Do you know how a little change in the face of some one you love, or a little tremble in his voice, can make you see quite clearly what nobody, not even the great poets, had been able to show you before?