light. Sight depends upon light. Therefore Anita's babe sees.' Old
Rosendo's grandson, you know."

Hitt nodded. "Waite," he said earnestly, "she is simply illustrating
what would happen to any of us if we threw ourselves wholly upon
God's protecting care, and took our thoughts only from Him. That's
why she can lose her home, her family, her reputation, that
mine--everything--and still stand. _She does what we don't dare to
do!_"

"She is a living illustration," replied Father Waite, "of the mighty
fact that there is nothing so practical as _real_ Christianity. I want
you to tell Professor Cane that. He calls her 'the girl with the
Utopian views,' because of her ingenuous replies in his sociological
class. But I want you to show him that she is very far from being
impractical."

"I'll do it," said Hitt emphatically. "I'll prove to Cane that her
religion is not a visionary scheme for regulating a world inhabited
only by perfect beings, but is a working principle for the every-day
sinner to use in the solution of his daily problems. Moreover, Waite,
she is a vivid illustration of the fact that when the individual
improves, the nation does likewise. Do you get me?"

"I not only get you, but I stand as a proof of your statement,"
returned Father Waite gently.

Carmen, her thoughts above, though her feet trod the earth, came and
went, glad and happy. The change in her mode of living from the
supreme luxury of the Hawley-Crowles mansion to the common comforts of
the home where now she dwelt so simply with the Beaubien, seemed not
to have caused even a ripple in the full current of her joy. Her life
was a symphony of thanksgiving; an antiphony, in which all Nature
voiced its responses to her in a diapason, full, rich, and harmonious.
Often that autumn she might have been seen standing among the tinted
leaves on the college campus, and drinking in their silent message.
And then she might have been heard to exclaim, as she turned her rapt
gaze beyond the venerable, vine-clad buildings: "Oh, I feel as if I
just couldn't stand it, all this wealth of beauty, of love, of
boundless good!" And yet she was alone, always alone. For her dark
story had reared a hedge about her; the taboo rested upon her; and
even in the crowded classrooms the schoolmates of her own sex looked
askance and drew their skirts about them.

But if the students avoided her, the faculty did not. And those like
Professor Cane, who had the opportunity and