308 'GOD'S PEACE'
I ask her to tell me something ahout her life with her father in the lonely mill. But she shakes her head and says : ' There is not much to tell. I take care of my flowers, my bees, and my fruit, and I read to my father. But if you would care to know more about us, then perhaps you will come up and see for yourself. We — like yourself — see nobody, so we ought to suit each other.' A moment after she added : ' You need not say yes or no at once. If you are happy all alone, there is no reason to seek company. But should you some day need us, then remember that you are welcome.'
We stood looking at each other to say good-bye, when I suddenly realised there was something I wanted explained, and I asked ; ' The other day I saw you standing near the mill; you were leaning against one of its wings. Suppose it had suddenly started to move ? '
' Oh, no,' she answered. ' There is no danger of that. The mill has not moved for years. Father is old and nearly blind. He has quite given up working the mill any longer.'
She nodded good-bye and went. But I stood gazing after her, whispering blessings on her, all the tender music of happiness and gratitude which filled my heart.
Do I love her.' I don't think so, for I don't desire her. There is nothing between us which I wish different. My senses lie at rest like happily- smiling babes listening to her voice's caress. The warm tenderness of her eyes enfolds me, and her
