"_Many questions vex us: all others lead to one: when man vanishes, does he pass into the stillness of the earth's atmosphere and sink toward the stillness of its rocks like every other species? He answers with his faith: that his spirit is here he knows not why, but takes flight from it he knows not how or whither. Only, faith discloses to him one picture: the snowy pinion folded and at rest in the Final Places._"
That long sunny afternoon in the June woods! The shadows of the trees slowly lengthened eastward. The sun sank below the forest boughs and shot its long lances against the tree trunks. It made a straight path of gold, deeper gold, across the yellow grain. The sounds of life died away, the atmosphere grew sweeter with the odours of leaves and grasses and blossoms.
Webster recrossed the woods as he had entered it, waded through the nightshade and climbed the fence under the dark tree.
It was twilight when he entered the City.
As he passed her yard, Jenny bounded across to him joyous, innocent, tender, in a white frock with fresh blue ribbons in her brown hair.
"Did you find him?" she asked, her happiness not depending on his answer.
"It was not the right place. Tomorrow I am going out further into the country to a better place."
"The humming-bird has been here," Jenny announced with an air of saying that she had been more successful as a naturalist.
He made no reply: as the veteran observer of a day, he had somewhat outgrown the trumpet-vine arbour and the ruby-throat.
He lingered close to the fence. Jenny lingered. He moved off, disappointed but devoid of speech.
"Come back!" Jenny whispered, with reproach and vexation.
It was the first invitation. It was the first acceptance of an invitation. There would have been a second acceptance but the invitation was not there to accept.
When Webster turned in at his home gate, everything was just as he had foreseen: his father sat on one side of the porch, smoking the one daily cigar; his mother faced him from the opposite side, slowly rocking. Elinor crouched on the top step between them: he would have to walk around her or over her.
His father laughed heartily as he sauntered up.
"Well, my son, where is your game bag? What have you brought us for breakfast?"
