-day, sparkling in the sunshine. David, standing
beside Richard, spoke of it.

"It isn't always blue, but it is always beautiful. Even when the snow
flies as it did yesterday."

"And are you content with this, Cousin David?"

The answer was evasive. "I have my little law practice, and my books. And
is any one ever content, Richard?"

Going down the hill, Richard pondered. Was Eve right after all? Did a man
who turned his face away from the rush of cities really lack red blood?

Stopping at the schoolhouse, he found teacher and scholars still gone.
But the door was unlocked and he went in. The low-ceiled room was
charming, and the good taste of the teacher was evident in its
decorations. There were branches of pine and cedar on the walls, a
picture of Washington at one end with a flag draped over it, a pot of
primroses in the south window.

There were several books on Anne's desk. Somewhat curiously he examined
the titles. A shabby Browning, a modern poet or two, Chesterton, a volume
of Pepys, the pile topped by a small black Bible. Moved by a sudden
impulse, he opened the Bible. The leaves fell back at a marked passage:

"_Let not your heart be troubled._"

He shut the book sharply. It was as if he had peered into the girl's
soul. The red was in his cheeks as he turned away.

* * * * *

That night Nancy Brooks went with Richard to his room. On the threshold
she stopped.

"I have given this room to you," she said, "because it was mine when I
was a girl, and all my dreams have been shut in--waiting for you."

"Mother," he caught her hands in his, "you mustn't dream too much for
me."

"Let me dream to-night;" she was looking up at him with her shining eyes;
"to-morrow I shall be just a commonplace mother of a commonplace son; but
to-night I am queen, and you are the crown prince on the eve of
coronation. Oh, Hickory Dickory, I am such a happy mother."

Hickory Dickory! It was her child-name for him. She had not often used
it of late. He felt that she would not often use it again. He was much
moved by her dedication of him to his new life. He held her close. His
doubts fled. He thought no more of Eve and of her flaming arguments.
Somewhere out in the snow her rose lay frozen and faded where he had
dropped it.

And when he slept and dreamed it was of a little brown bird which sang in
the snow, and the song that it sang seemed to leap from the pages of a
Book, "_Let not your h