factors--and although we stand in the presence of death, it seems to
me that we stand, too, in the presence and the glory of that life which
is above death--and we stand on hallowed ground."

He ended, and about him was the solemnity of simple hearts, stirred and
responsive, and over him was the serenity of June, and the warmth of the
earth pregnant with fruitfulness.

When it was over, the crowd scattered to their vehicles and the wheels
clattered over the metaled roads, but in the burial ground, when all the
rest were gone, two figures tarried.

For a moment the minister also stayed after the crowd had left. He went
over to the girl and spoke softly, with a hand laid tenderly on her
shoulder.

"My daughter," he said simply, "you, too, have conquered. Every woman
has something of restless yearning in her eyes at some time. To a woman
with great charm and beauty the world sings a siren song. I saw this
thing in your eyes--and soul. I saw it come and go--and I knew that you
had won your fight, and won through to life's sweetest benison. You have
love. These lives are ended, but yours is beginning." Then he, too,
turned away, and only the girl and young man were left.

Mary's beautiful eyes were bright with tears, and, as she stood there
slim and straight, her companion came close and his arm slipped about
her. For a moment she seemed unconscious of his presence, then she
turned and her eyes looked steadfastly into his, and as they looked they
smiled through their mistiness.

"Mary"--the man's voice was earnest and very tender--"Mary, I know that
now you're thinking about other things and they're very sacred things.
Besides, my heart is overflowing and words don't give it enough power of
expression. Since I fell in love with you life has been all poetry to
me--but not a poetry of words.... You are thinking of them--" He paused
and his sober eyes took in the headstones, lingering for a moment on
this newest grave upon which the flowers were banked. They were fine
eyes, for in them dwelt an intrinsic honesty and courage, and, though it
was a moment of deep gravity, the little wrinkles that ran out from them
were assurances that they were often laughing eyes. This man seemed to
fit into the picture of the hills with the appropriateness of the
native-born. In his free-flung shoulders and broad chest was the health
of the open, but on one finger he wore a heavily carved ring from which
glowed the cool light of a large em