Maybe it was the moon, but something had smoothed out every wrinkle in
her face. She looked young and wise, as she leaned over and put her hand
on mine. Here was a Jane I had never known before. In a voice low and
sweet, she repeated the ancient hymn:

"God holds the key of all unknown
And I am glad.
If other hands should hold the key,
Or if He trusted it to me,
I might be sad."

From that night my feeling of superiority to Jane diminished. Some of
her strong sweetness, penetrating what seemed the crusty exterior of my
heart, entered in to abide with me always.

IX

JANE HOPES; KISHIMOTO DESPAIRS

When Zura appeared the following morning no reference was made to the
events of the night before. She was pale and coldly courteous. In her
sharp brightness there was no hint of an olive branch being hid about
her to be offered to me or presented to her grandfather when she
returned to his house that day, as previously arranged.

Once only did the girl's manner soften, and then neither to Jane nor to
me. Outside, from every glint of the sun on the new green of the pines
to the joyous call of the white sea birds, was the glad message of
spring, and spring in this lovely Island is no mere promise of things to
come, but an everlasting fulfilment of the glorious promises made in the
hour the great Artist dreamed it.

Zura looked through the window at the sea, gaily breaking its silvered
crests against the gray old rocks and, just above, the great patches of
rose-pink cherries streaking the blue haze of the mountains. As the
girl took in the tender beauty of the scene some memory seemed to touch
her. Her eyes filled, her lips trembled; but she quickly recovered
herself and soon after made her adieus.

I walked with her to the gate and watched her go down the long flight of
steps. Everything about her, from the poise of her head to the swing of
her body, courted conflict and prophesied disaster. I felt as if I had
snatched a bag of candy from a hungry child.

A week later Kishimoto San came to make the call customary on occasions
when any kindness had been done to him or his family. His gratitude for
my efforts to make some headway with Zura was very sincere. He
supplemented his thanks by a large box of cake. The gift was decorated
with a red string and a good-luck emblem and wrapped in a bright yellow
cloth. From the atmosphere, all concerned needed not only good luck, but
something the