The Master sent for Damini. ‘My little mother,’ he told her, ‘I am about to leave you for the duration of my travels. Let me arrange for your stay meanwhile with your aunt, as usual.’
‘I would accompany you,’ said Damini.
‘You could hardly bear it, I am afraid. Our journeying will be troublesome.’
‘Of course I can bear it,’ she answered. ‘Pray have no concern about any trouble of mine.’
Lilananda was pleased at this proof of Damini’s devotion. In former years, this opportunity had been Damini's holiday time,—the one thing to which she had looked forward through the preceding months. ‘Miraculous!’ thought the Swami. ‘How wondrously does even stone become as wax in the Lord’s melting-pot of emotion.’
So Damini had her way, and came along with us.
The spot we reached, after hours of tramping in the sun, was a little promontory on the seacoast, shaded by cocoa-nut palms. Profound was the solitude and the tranquillity which reigned there, as the gentle rustle of the palm tassels merged into the idle plash of the girdling sea.
