en full
of care and trouble. I wish I knew what you meant! But I have seen that
wonderful light!"

"Thee has seen it?"

"Yes, to-day! And I followed it; I shall always follow it."

"When does thee leave the village?" David asked, fearing the
conversation would lead where he did not want to go.

"To-morrow," she said.

"Does thee think that the doctor would renew his offer to take me with
him?"

"Do I think so? Oh! I am sure."

"Then I will go."

"You will go? Oh! I am so happy! The doctor was very angry; he has not
been himself since. You don't know how glad he will be."

"But will not thee be happy, too?" he asked.

"Happier than you could dream," she answered with all the frankness of a
child. "But what made you change your mind?"

"I will tell thee sometime; it is too late now. There is my home and I
have much work to do before dark."

"Home!" she echoed. "I never had a home, or at least I cannot remember
it. We have always led a roving life, here to-day and gone to-morrow. It
must be sweet to have a home!"

"Thee has always led a roving life and wishes to have a home? I have
always had a home, and wish to lead a roving life," said David.

They looked at each other and smiled at this curious contradiction. They
smiled because they were not yet old enough to weep over the
restlessness of the human heart.

Having reached the edge of the woods, where their paths separated, they
paused.

"We must part," said David.

"Yes; but we shall meet to-morrow."

"We shall meet to-morrow."

"You are sure?"

"I am sure."

"You will not change your mind?"

"I could not if I would."

"Good-bye."

"Good-bye."

At the touch of their hands their young hearts were swayed by tender and
tumultuous feelings. A too strong pressure startled them, and they
loosened their grasp. The sun sank behind the hill. The shadows that
fell upon their faces awakened them from their dreams. Again they said
goodbye and reluctantly parted. Once they stopped and, turning, waved
their hands; and the next moment Pepeeta entered the road which led her
out of sight.

In this interview, the entire past of these two lives seemed to count
for nothing.

If Pepeeta had never seen anything of the world; if she had issued from
a nunnery at that very moment, she could not have acted with a more
utter disregard of every principle of safety.

It was the same with David. The fact that he had been reared a Quaker;
that he had been ded