Once he touched her forehead, and bringing his hand slowly
downwards compelled her to close her eyes. A brief darkness came
upon her, and she uttered a muffled protest. But when he lifted
his hand again, her eyes did not open. The physical had fallen
from her, material things had ceased to matter. She was free--free
as the ether through which she floated. She was mounting upwards,
upwards, upwards, through celestial morning to her castle at the
top of the world. And the magic--the magic that beat in her
veins--was the very elixir of life within her, inspiring her,
uplifting her. For a space she hovered thus, still mounting, but
imperceptibly, caught as it were between earth and heaven. Then
the golden glamour about her turned to a mystic haze. Strange
visions, but half comprehended, took shape and dissolved before
her. She believed that she was floating among the mountain-crests
with the Infinite all about her. The wonder of it and the rapture
were beyond all utterance, beyond the grasp of human knowledge; the
joy exceeded all that she had ever known. And so by exquisite
phases, she entered at last a great vastness--a slumber-space where
all things were forgotten, lost in the radiance of an unbroken
peace.
She folded the wings of her enchantment with absolute contentment
and slept. She had come to a new era in her existence.
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