saw that it was that; but its fate forbade it to accept that great happiness, that vision of ecstasy. . . . And once again it thought, 'Now, now, I have really had everything. After that, nothing more can possibly come.' And yet something did come. And, after that revelation, it was no longer a dream, but a reality, as tangible as it could hope to be . . . for such a poor small soul. . . . What came, Marianne, was not so very much; but the small soul does not want much: an atom, a grain of absolute truth and reality; a tiny grain, but all-sufficing. . . . For small souls do not need much. . . . Just an atom, a grain. And of that grain, Marianne, it even communicated a part . . . to others. My child, that is the whole secret: to share your grain, to give, though it be but of your superfluity, to others. But, Marianne, you will have to wait for that grain; it will only come later; and, before you can possess it . . . you must first go through everything . . . you must pass through all that unreality, that vain dreaming . . ."
"And, Auntie, have you the grain?"
"Oh, child, the grain is so small, so small! So tiny, so wee, such a very little grain! But what are we ourselves? And, we being what we are, is not that little tiny grain enough? . . ."
"For happiness . . . some day, later, much later, after long, long years? . . ."
"Happiness? Happiness? . . . Yes, the happi-
