and was looking at her with curious twinkling eyes.

"My dear," said Mr. Dale gently, "they told me at the rectory they
thought you were up here, so I came to see if you would let me walk home
with you."

Helen started as he spoke, and the squirrel scampered away. "Did you come
for that?" she said, touched in spite of her bitter thoughts.

Mr. Dale pushed his broad-brimmed hat back on his head, so that his face
seemed to have a black aureola around it. "Yes," he replied, regarding
her with anxious blue eyes,--"yes. I am grieved to have you so much
alone; yet I know how natural it is to desire to be alone."

Helen did not answer.

"I hope," he went on, hesitating, "you will not think I intrude if I
say--I came because I wanted to say that I have a great respect for your
husband, Helen."

Helen turned sharply, as though she would have clasped his hands, and
then put her own over her face, which was quivering with sudden tears.

Mr. Dale touched her shoulder gently. "Yes, a great respect. Love like
his inspires reverence. It is almost divine."

Helen's assent was inaudible.

"Not, my dear," the old man continued, "that I do not regret--yes, with
all my heart I deplore--the suffering for you both, by which his love is
proved. Yet I recognize with awe that it is love. And when one has come
so near the end of life as I have, it is much to have once seen love. We
look into the mysteries of God when we see how divine a human soul can
be. Perhaps I have no right to speak of what is so sacredly yours, yet it
is proper that you should know that the full meaning of this calamity can
be understood. It is not all grief, Helen, to be loved as you are."

She could not speak; she clung to him in a passion of tears, and the love
and warmth she had thought she should never feel again began to stir
about her heart.

"So you will be strong for him," Mr. Dale said gently, his wrinkled hand
stroking her soft hair. "Be patient, because we have perhaps loved you
too much to be just to him; yet your peace would teach us justice. Be
happier, my dear, that we may understand him. You see what I mean?"

Helen did see; courage began to creep back, and her reserve melted and
broke down with a storm of tears, too long unshed. "I will try," she said
brokenly,--"oh, I will try!" She did not say what she would try to do,
but to struggle for John's sake gave her strength and purpose for all of
life. She would so live that no one could misunde