right of profoundest property in the person loved. It is an
instinct--but how wrongly, undivinely, falsely interpreted! Hence so
many tears! Hence a law of nature, deep written in the young heart,
seems often set utterly at nought by circumstance!

But the girl in her dejection and doubt, was worth far more than in
her content and confidence. She was even now the richer by the
knowledge of sorrow, and she was on the way to know that she needed
help, on the way to hate herself, to become capable of loving. Life
could never be the same to her, and the farther from the same the
better!

The beauty came down in the morning pale and dim and white-lipped,
like a flower that had had no water. Mercy was fresh and rosy, with
a luminous mist of loveliness over her plain unfinished features.
Already had they begun to change in the direction of beauty.
Christina's eyes burned; in Mercy's shone something of the light by
which a soul may walk and not stumble. In the eyes of both was
expectation, in the eyes of the one confident, in the eyes of the
other anxious.

As soon as they found themselves alone together, eyes sought eyes,
and met in understanding. They had not made confidantes of each
other, each guessed well, and was well guessed at. They did not
speculate; they understood. In like manner, Mercy and Alister
understood each other, but not Christina and Ian. Neither of these
knew the feelings of the other.

Without a word they rose, put on their hats, left the house, and
took the road toward the valley.