The boy who was always with her

How could she ever forget him?

Had he not been the hero of the one and only adventure she had ever had in her dull, lonely life?

Since the death of her mother the days had all been exactly alike:

the correct program of meals, lessons, embroidery, and a well-protected walk or an hour in the garden.

But at night when she lay in bed and had bidden her correct governess a correct good night
and had said what she was expected to say to her father,

her thoughts would fly back to the canyon at Colosse, and , half asleep and half awake,
she would go climbing on with the boy to where flowers of unimaginable beauty bent their heads to bright streams

Sometimes the path was too steep for her or the boulders too high,

and then the boy would give her his hand and help her,

and it was always more beautiful father on.
They never got to the top, not even in her dreams;

but one day, together, they would look over the other side.

So she studied, and did as she was told,
and stayed where she should and everyone called her a good obedient little maid.

But her spirit lived in another country,
Where the streams were cold and the rocks were high and the snows not far away;

and no one had ever followed her there, except the boy who was always with her.