Phœbe sat quiet for some time. The voices of the other children sounded farther away until they scarcely reached her. She saw Tommy’s little figure far down the glen, beside the Still Pool. “I wonder what he is looking at,” she thought, “he has been standing beside the pool such a long time.” She called, “Tommy, Tommy,” but he did not turn his head. She waited a moment and then started toward him. As she came near him she saw that he was gazing into the waters of Still Pool as though he saw something very wonderful in it.
Still Pool was a beautiful little well of water at the northern end of the glen. It was formed by water from the brook which had some time gone out of its course and left here this deep, clear pool, all surrounded by ferns and water cress. It was almost always so clear that you could look right down to the bottom of it and see the white pebbles there. The children had always called it the “Still” pool, because it seemed so very quiet in this part of the glen and the pool was the stillest of all.
Phœbe came up to Tommy. He did not hear her; he was looking into the pool. So she came behind him very softly and laid her hand on his shoulder.
“What are you looking at, little Tommy?” she asked.
“I have called and called you, but you never turned your head. I don’t believe you even saw me as I came up here.”
Tommy turned around and looked at her. His big, dreamy eyes looked up into her soft brown ones. “Oh, Phœbe,” he said, “I suppose I must have been dreaming. I’m hardly awake yet. I saw something so wonderful in Still Pool.”
Phœbe looked at the child with deep interest. “You saw a beautiful Face there, didn’t you?”
Tommy looked at her with astonishment. “Why, how did you know? Then I must really, truly have seen the Face.”
Phœbe laid her cool hand on his hot forehead and brushed his hair back. Then she took his hand and said softly:
“Come to my chestnut tree before the other children come back and you can tell me all about it. Or, if you don’t feel like talking, we will just rest under the tree awhile, and when the others come we will all go home together.”
Tommy grasped Phœbe’s hand tightly and walked along. Neither said anything until they had sat under the tree for some time. Tommy’s eyes still wore their far-away look. He laid his head on Phœbe’s lap, and the young girl stroked his yellow hair and waited until he should be ready to talk.