CHAPTER XXI

ohadeverlovedintheworld. Barneyneedneverknowit—thoughshewouldnotintheleasthavemindedhisknowing.Butsheknewitanditmadeatremendousdifferencetoher.Justtolove!Shedidnotasktobeloved.Itwasraptureenoughjusttosittherebesidehiminsilence,aloneinthesummernightinthewhitesplendourofmoonshine,withthewindblowingdownonthemoutofthepinewoods.Shehadalwaysenviedthewind.Sofree.Blowingwhereitlisted.Throughthehills.Overthelakes.Whatatang,whatazipithad!Whatamagicofadventure!Valancyfeltasifshehadexchangedhershop-wornsoulforafreshone,fire-newfromtheworkshopofthegods.Asfarbackasshecouldlook,lifehadbeendull—colourless—savourless.Nowshehadcometoalittlepatchofviolets,purpleandfragrant—hersfortheplucking.NomatterwhoorwhathadbeeninBarney’spast—nomatterwhoorwhatmightbeinhisfuture—nooneelsecouldeverhavethisperfecthour.Shesurrenderedherselfutterlytothecharmofthemoment. “Everdreamofballooning?”saidBarneysuddenly. “No,”saidValancy. “Ido—often.Dreamofsailingthroughtheclouds—seeingthegloriesofsunset—spendinghoursinthemidstofaterrificstormwithlightningplayingaboveandbelowyou—skimmingaboveasilvercloudfloorunderafullmoon—wonderful!” “Itdoessoundso,”saidValancy.“I’vestayedonearthinmydreams.” ShetoldhimaboutherBlueCastle.ItwassoeasytotellBarneythings.Onefeltheunderstoodeverything—eventhethingsyoudidn’ttellhim.AndthenshetoldhimalittleofherexistencebeforeshecametoRoaringAbel’s.Shewantedhimtoseewhyshehadgonetothedance“upback.” “Yousee—I’veneverhadanyreallife,”shesaid.“I’vejust—breathed.Everydoorhasalwaysbeenshuttome.” “Butyou’restillyoung,”saidBarney. “Oh,Iknow.Yes,I’m‘stillyoung’—butthat’ssodifferentfromyoung,”saidValancybitterly.ForamomentshewastemptedtotellBarneywhyheryearshadnothingtodowithherfuturebutshedidnot.Shewasnotgoingtothinkofdeathtonight. “ThoughIneverwasreallyyoung,”shewenton—“untiltonight,”sheaddedinherheart.“Ineverhadalifelikeothergirls.Youcouldn’tunderstand.Why,”—shehadadesperatedesirethatBarneyshouldknowtheworstabouther—“Ididn’tevenlovemymo