The other familiar, and it
went on worrying me all that day until I could stand it no longer, and
to get rid of the matter, I set up the theory (which didn't quite
convince me) that the momentary expression I had seen was like an
expression in some one I had known in the far past. But after
dismissing the subject in that way, the subconscious mind was still no
doubt working at it, for two days later it all at once flashed into my
mind that my mysterious young lady was no other than the little Lillian
I had known so well eight years before! She was ten years old when I
first knew her, and I was quite intimately acquainted with her for a
little over a year, and greatly admired her for her beauty and charm,
especially when she smiled and that dimple flew about the corner of her
mouth like a twilight moth vaguely fluttering at the rim of a red
flower. But alas! her charm was waning: she was surrounded by relations
who adored her, and was intensely self-conscious, so that when after a
year her people moved to a new district, I was not sorry to break the
connection, and to forget all about her.
Now that I had seen and remembered her again, it was a consolation to
think that she was already in her decline when I first knew and was
attracted by her and on that account had never wholly lost my heart to
her. How different my feelings would have been if after pronouncing
that irrevocable judgment, I had recognised one of my vanished
darlings - one, say, like that child on Cromer Beach, or of dozens of
other fairylike little ones I have known and loved, and whose images
are enduring and sacred!
XXI
WILD FLOWERS AND LITTLE GIRLS
Thinking of the numerous company of little girls of infinite charm I
have met, and of their evanishment, I have a vision of myself on
horseback on the illimitable green level pampas, under the wide sunlit
cerulean sky in late September or early October, when the wild flowers
are at their best before the wilting heats of summer.
Seeing the flowers so abundant, I dismount and lead my horse by the
bridle and walk knee-deep in the lush grass, stooping down at every
step to look closely at the shy, exquisite blooms in their dewy morning
freshness and divine colours. Flowers of an inexpressible unearthly
loveliness and unforgettable; for how forget them when their images
shine in memory in all their pristine morning brilliance!
That is how I remember and love to remember them, in that first fresh
aspect, not as they appear later, the petals wilted or dropped, sun-
browned, ripening their seed and fruit.
