side of which the populations of all

Never had any words been so vivid and so beautiful--Arabia Felix--Aethiopia. But those were not more noble than the others,hardy barbarians, forests, and morasses. They seemed to driveroads back to the very beginning of the world, on either side of which the populations of all times and countries stoodin avenues, and by passing down them all knowledge would be hers,and the book of the world turned back to the very first page. 　　Such was her excitement at the possibilities of knowledge now openingbefore her that she ceased to read, and a breeze turning the page,the covers of Gibbon gently ruffled and closed together. She thenrose again and walked on. Slowly her mind became less confused andsought the origins of her exaltation, which were twofold and couldbe limited by an effort to the persons of Mr. Hirst and Mr. Hewet. 　　Any clear analysis of them was impossible owing to the haze of wonderin which they were enveloped. She could not reason about themas about people whose feelings went by the same rule as her own did,and her mind dwelt on them with a kind of physical pleasure such asis caused by the contemplation of bright things hanging in the sun. 　　From them all life seemed to radiate; the very words of bookswere steeped in radiance. She then became haunted by a suspicionwhich she was so reluctant to face that she welcomed a trip andstumble over the grass because thus her attention was dispersed,but in a second it had collected itself again. Unconsciously she hadbeen walking faster and faster, her body trying to outrun her mind;but she was now on the summit of a little hillock of earth which roseabove the river and displayed the valley. She was no longer ableto juggle with several ideas, but must deal with the most persistent,and a kind of melancholy replaced her excitement. She sank downon to the earth clasping her knees together, and looking blanklyin front of her. For some time she observed a great yellow butterfly,which was opening and closing its wings very slowly on a little flat stone. 　　"What is it to be in love?" she demanded, after a long silence;each word as it came into being seemed to shove itself out intoan unknown sea. Hypnotised by the wings of the butterfly,and awed by the discovery of a terrible possibility in life,she sat for some time longer. When the butterfly flew away,she rose, and with her two books beneath her arm returned home again,much as a soldier prepared for battle.