growing too subtle for her.

On these occasions Isabel was wont to court Ruth's counsel concerning
her wifely part in Arthur's work, thus often getting Leonard's as well.
Sometimes she impeached his masculine view of things, in her old
skirmishing way. Then she would turn rose-color once more and mirthfully
sigh, while Ruth laughed and wished for Godfrey, and Mrs. Morris
breathed soft ho-ho's from the cribbage board.

So came the Thanksgiving season, with strong, black ice on the mill
pond, where the four skated hand in hand. Then the piling snows stopped
the skating with a white Christmas, the old year sank to rest, the new
rose up, and Bylow Hill, under its bare elms and with the pine-crested
ridge at its back, sat in the cold sunshine like a white sea bird with
its head in its down. And when the nights were frigid and clear its
ruddy lights of lamp and hearth seemed to answer the downward gaze of
the stars in silent gratitude for conditions of happiness strangely
perfect for this imperfect world, and the town marvelled at the young
rector's grasp of his subject when his text was, "The heart knoweth his
own bitterness."




VII

THE HOUR STRIKES


But on a day in the very last of winter, when every one was in the thick