ith quiet
folded hands. The stiff caps hid the hair, whether it was silver or
gold; the white surplices covered the shoulders and concealed beautiful
curves as well as angular outlines; the throats were scarcely visible,
whether they were yellow and wrinkled or young and white. The Sisters
were simply sisters to fair-haired Nathan, and the Brothers were but
brothers to little black-eyed Hetty.

Once--was it on a Sunday morning?--Nathan glanced across the separating
space that is the very essence and sign of Shakerism. The dance had just
ceased, and there was a long, solemn stillness when God indeed seemed to
be in one of His holy temples and the earth was keeping silence before
Him. Suddenly Hetty grew to be something more than one of the figures in
a long row: she chained Nathan's eye and held it.

"Through her garments the grace of her glowed." He saw that, in spite
of the way her hair had been cut and stretched back from the forehead,
a short dusky tendril, softened and coaxed by the summer heat, had made
its way mutinously beyond the confines of her cap. Her eyes were
cast down, but the lashes that swept her round young cheek were quite
different from any other lashes in the Sisters' row. Her breath came and
went softly after the exertion of the rhythmic movements, stirring the
white muslin folds that wrapped her from throat to waist. He looked and
looked, until his body seemed to be all eyes, absolutely unaware of any
change in himself; quite oblivious of the fact that he was regarding the
girl in any new and dangerous way.

The silence continued, long and profound, until suddenly Hetty raised
her beautiful lashes and met Nathan's gaze, the gaze of a boy just
turned to man: ardent, warm, compelling. There was a startled moment of
recognition, a tremulous approach, almost an embrace, of regard; each
sent an electric current across the protective separating space, the
two pairs of eyes met and said, "I love you," in such clear tones that
Nathan and Hetty marveled that the Elder did not hear them. Somebody
says that love, like a scarlet spider, can spin a thread between two
hearts almost in an instant, so fine as to be almost invisible, yet it
will hold with the tenacity of an iron chain. The thread had been spun;
it was so delicate that neither Nathan nor Hetty had seen the scarlet
spider spinning it, but the strength of both would not avail to snap the
bond that held them together.

The moments passed. Hetty's k