11. Ram Dass
There were fine sus even in the square, sometimes. One could only see parts of them, however, between the eys and over the roofs. From the kit windows one could not see them at all, and could only guess that they were going on because the bricks looked warm and the air rosy or yellow for a while, or perhaps one saw a blazing glow strike a particular pane of glass somewhere. There was, however, one place from whie could see all the splendor of them: the piles of red old clouds in the west; or the purple ones edged with dazzling brightness; or the little fleecy, floating oinged with rose-color and looking like flights of pink doves scurrying across the blue in a great hurry if there was a wind. The place where one could see all this, and seem at the same time to breathe a purer air, was, of course, the attidow. When the square suddenly seemed to begin to glow in an ented way and look wonderful in spite of its sooty trees and railings, Sara knew something was going on in the sky; and when it was at all possible to leave the kit without being missed or called back, she invariably stole away and crept up the flights of stairs, and, climbing on the old table, got her head and body as far out of the windoossible. When she had aplished this, she always drew a long breath and looked all round her. It used to seem as if she had all the sky and the world to herself. No one else ever looked out of the other attics. Generally the skylights were closed; but even if they were propped open to admit air, no one seemed to e hem. And there Sara would stand, sometimes turning her face upward to the blue which seemed so friendly and near-- just like a lovely vaulted ceiling--sometimes watg the west and all the wonderful things that happehere: the clouds melting or drifting or waiting softly to be ged pink or crimson or snow-white or purple or pale dove-gray. Sometimes they made islands reat mountains enclosing lakes of deep turquoise- blue, or liquid amber, or chrysoprase-green; sometimes dark headlands jutted inte, lost seas; sometimes slerips of wonderful lands joiher wonderful lands together. There were places where it seemed that one could run or climb or stand and wait to see what was ing--until, perhaps, as it all melted, one could float away. At least it seemed so to Sara, and nothing had ever been quite so beautiful to her as the things she saw as she stood oable--her body half out of the skylight--the sparrows twittering with su softness on the slates. The sparrows always seemed to her to twitter with a sort of subdued softness just when these marvels were going on.
There was such a su as this a few days after the Indialeman was brought to his new home; and, as it fortunately happehat the afternoons work was done i and nobody had ordered her to go anywhere or perform any task, Sara found it easier than usual to slip away and go upstairs.
She mounted her table and stood looking out. It was a wonderful moment. There were floods of molten gold c the west, as if a glorious tide was sweeping over the world. A deep, rich yellow light filled the air; the birds flying across the tops of the houses showed quite black against it.
"Its a Splendid one," said Sara, softly, to herself. "It makes me feel almost afraid--as if something strange was just going to happen. The Splendid ones always make me feel like that."
She suddenly turned her head because she heard a sound a few yards away from her. It was an odd soun