Beyond the Gates by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward

In my distress I turned and would have fled, which way I knew not. I was swept up like a weed on a surge of self-reproach and longing. What was eternal life if she had found out that I was dead? What were the splendors of Paradise, if she missed me? It was made evident to me that my father was gratified at the turn my impulses had taken, but he intimated that it might not be possible to follow them, and that this was a matter which must be investigated before acting. This surprised me, and I inquired of him eagerly -- yet, I think not passionately, not angrily, as I should once have done at the thwarting of such a wish as that -- what he meant by the doubt he raised.

"It is not always permitted," he said gravely. "We cannot return when we would. We go upon these errands when it is Willed. I will go and learn what the Will may be for you touching this matter. Stay here and wait for me."