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The Reflexion of the Sun upon the City....
... and the city was of pure gold, like unto pure glass....
... a bright and shining place, where there is no parting....
Her light was like unto a stone most precious, as it were a jasper stone, clear as crystal....
The uncounted minutes tiptoed past.
She spoke at last, in a little whispering voice—
“I’ve found it,” said Laura. “It’s here. It was here all the time. And Mother——”
She counted the easy ridges that seemed so clear and near, traced, with a finger that quivered, the merry white road playing bo-peep in and out of the woods.
“They’re the Delectable Mountains,” said Laura. “Of course, the Delectable Mountains and the Cœlestial City. And I can get there by tea-time. If I run—if I don’t stop once—oh, Mother, I can get to you by tea-time.”
CHAPTER V
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Though its anticipation and memory can fill a lifetime, the actual emotion must inevitably measure its intensity by its brevity. Ecstasy and despair, those hill-tops of human experience, can offer, in the nature of things, no abiding place for a pilgrim’s feet.