O
Stephen, I pray you to trouble no more about a lost plant of which you
have seed in plenty, but make thanks that you still live and that
through you my mother and I still live, who, if you had died, would
weep our eyes away."
"Through me," he answered. "You mean through Allan and Hans. Also it
was you who saved my life there in the water. Oh! I remember it all
now. You are right, Hope; although I didn't know it, you are the true
Holy Flower that I saw."
She ran to him and kneeling by his side, gave him her hand, which he
pressed to his pale lips.
Then I sneaked out of that hut and left them to discuss the lost
flower that was found again. It was a pretty scene, and one that to my
mind gave a sort of spiritual meaning to the whole of an otherwise
rather insane quest. He sought an ideal flower, he found--the love of
his life.
After this, Stephen recovered rapidly, for such love is the best of
medicines--if it be returned.
I don't know what passed between the pair and Brother John and his
wife, for I never asked.
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