Presently,
when they were ready, something would happen, something they were
preparing at their leisure, something so exquisite that all who saw it
would dance and sing for gladness. They also believed in a Wonderful
Stranger who was coming into their slow, steady lives. They fell to
dreaming of the surprising pageant they would blazon forth upon the
world a little later. And while they dreamed, the wind of night passed
moaning through their leafless branches, and Time flew noiselessly
above the turning Earth.
Meanwhile, inside the old Mill House, the servants lit the lamps and
drew the blinds and curtains. Behind the closing eyelids, however,
like dream-chambers within a busy skull, there were rooms of various
shapes and kinds, and in one of these on the ground-floor, called
Daddy's Study, the three children stood, expectant and a little shy,
waiting for something desirable to happen. In common with all other
living things, they shared this enticing feeling--that Something
Wonderful was going to happen. To be without this feeling, of course,
is to be not alive; but, once alive, it cannot be escaped. At death it
asserts itself most strongly of all--Something Too Wonderful is going
to happen.
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