'You are not now discontented because you cannot serve under
Mazzini?'
'Not now.'
There was nothing in her reply on the face of it of any particular
consequence to Baruch. She might simply have intended that the
beauty of the fair landscape extinguished her restlessness, or that
she saw her own unfitness, but neither of these interpretations
presented itself to him.
'I have sometimes thought,' continued Baruch, slowly, 'that the love
of any two persons in this world may fulfil an eternal purpose which
is as necessary to the Universe as a great revolution.'
Madge's eyes moved round from the hills and they met Baruch's. No
syllable was uttered, but swiftest messages passed, question and
answer. There was no hesitation on his part now, no doubt, the woman
and the moment had come. The last question was put, the final answer
was given; he took her hand in his and came closer to her.
'Stop!' she whispered, 'do you know my history?'
He did not reply, but fell upon her neck. This was the goal to which
both had been journeying all these years, although with much weary
mistaking of roads; this was what from the beginning was designed for
both! Happy Madge! happy Baruch! There are some so closely akin
that the meaning of each may be said to lie in the other, who do not
approach till it is too late. They travel towards one another, but
are waylaid and detained, and just as they are within greeting, one
of them drops and dies.
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