f the apple
trees, he made a picture of clean, wholesome, vigorous youth.

Suddenly Susanna raised her head and surprised Hetty looking at the lad
with all her heart in her eyes. At the same moment Nathan turned, and
before he could conceal the telltale ardor of his glance, it had sped to
Hetty. With the instinct of self-preservation he stooped instantly as if
to steady the saw on the pole, but it was too late to mend matters: his
tale was told so far as Susanna was concerned; but it was better she
should suspect than one of the Believers or Eldress Abby.

Susanna worked on in silent anxiety. The likelihood of such crises as
this had sometimes crossed her mind, and knowing how frail human nature
is, she often marveled that instances seemed so infrequent. Her instinct
told her that in every Community the risk must exist, even though all
were doubly warned and armed against the temptations that flesh is heir
to; yet no hint of danger had showed itself during the months in which
she had been a member of the Shaker family. She had heard the Elder's
plea to the young converts to take up "a full cross against the flesh";
she had listened to Eldress Abby when she told them that the natural
life, its thoughts, passions, feelings, and associations, must be turned
against once and forever; but her heart melted in pity for the two
poor young things struggling helplessly against instincts of which they
hardly knew the meaning, so cloistered had been the life they lived.
The kind, conscientious hands that had fed them would now seem hard and
unrelenting; the place that had been home would turn to a prison; the
life that Elder Gray preached, "the life of a purer godliness than can
be attained by marriage," had seemed difficult, perhaps, but possible;
and now how cold and hopeless it would appear to these two young,
undisciplined, flaming hearts!

"Hetty dear, talk to me!" whispered Susanna, softly touching her
shoulder, and wondering if she could somehow find a way to counsel the
girl in her perplexity.

Hetty started rebelliously to her feet as Nathan moved away farther into
the orchard. "If you say a single thing to me, or a word about me to
Eldress Abby, I'll run away this very day. Nobody has any right to speak
to me, and I just want to be let alone! It's all very well for you,"
she went on passionately. "What have you had to give up? Nothing but a
husband you did n't love and a home you did n't want to stay in. Like
as not y