e a message which must be hearkened to, and there
was an expectant hush when the first line, "A sower went forth sowing,"
rang clearly forth. Later some of those about me breathed harder, and I
saw that big Raymond's eyes were hazy, while one hard brown hand was
clenched upon his knee, as in sinking cadence we heard again, "Within a
hallowed acre He sows yet other grain."

Then after the last note died away and there was only the moaning of the
wind, he said simply, "Thank you, Miss Carrington. I am glad you sang it
at the Lone Hollow harvest home."

"I would never have played it here for any one else," said Harry
presently. "These things are not to be undertaken casually, but she--well,
I felt they had to listen, and I did the best that was in me. I think it
was her clean-hearted simplicity."

It was some time afterward when I led Grace out and spent a blissful ten
minutes swinging through the mazes of a prairie dance, before we found a
nook under dark spruce branches from the big coulee, where Grace listened
with interest while I told her of our experiences in the Dominion. The
background of somber sprays enhanced her fair beauty, and her dress,
which, though there was azure about it, was of much the same color, melted
into the festoon of wheat stalks below. The French-Canadian was playing
another of his weird waltzes, and it may have been this that reminded me,
for now I remembered how I had seen her so before.

"You will not laugh, I hope, when I tell you that all this seems
familiar," I said hesitatingly. "Sometimes in a strange country one comes
upon a scene that one knows perfectly, and we feel that, perhaps in
dreams, we have seen it all before. Why it is so, I cannot tell, but once
in fancy I saw you with a dress exactly like the one you are wearing now,
and the tall wheat behind you. Of course, it sounds ridiculous, but, as
Harry says, we do not know everything, and you believe me, don't you?"

Grace's face grew suddenly grave, and there was a heightened color in it
as she answered: "Your friend is a philosopher, besides a fine musician,
and I quite believe you. I have had such experiences--but I think these
fancies, if fancies they are, are best forgotten. Still, tell me, did you
dream or imagine anything more?"

"Yes," I said, still puzzled as a dim memory came back, "I saw your father
too. He seemed in trouble, and I was concerned in it. This I think was on
the prairie, but there were tall pines too; w