sy over this when the
promised escort joined her.

The remnants of his forsaken Quakerism hung around him; his coat was
buff, his hat straight in the brim, his manner prim, and when he spoke
it was in the speech of his people. His complexion was very light, hair,
eyebrows and lashes, and the down on his chin--almost flaxen; his face
was browned by exposure to the weather, but so well formed that Susannah
found him very good to look upon, the features pointed and delicate, but
not without strength.

"Thou wilt walk as far as thy home with me?" he asked.

He held Smith's huge umbrella, but he did not hold it with the same
strength, nor did he show the same skill in keeping it against the wind.

He spoke as they walked. "Thou hast walked a long way. Art weary?"

"Yes--no--I don't know." What did it matter whether she was tired or
not? Baffled curiosity was exciting her. "You are a stranger here. Are
you a friend of the Smiths?"

"I have experienced the great benefit of being acquainted with the
prophet for the last fourteen days."

"But he's not a prophet," said Susannah resentfully.

"Did'st thou never find thyself to be mistaken when thou wast most sure?
Hast thou not perceived that thy Bible tells thee in many different ways
that God chooses not as men choose?"

Then with great ardour he preached to her the doctrine of this new
Christian sect. He was a convert; his preaching was rather the eager
recital of his own experience, which would out, like some dynamic force
within him, than pressure brought wilfully to bear upon her.

He said, "I do not ask thee, friend, if thou art Methodist or Baptist or
Presbyterian, but I do ask thee, canst thou read the promises of thy
Lord to his church and be content with its present low estate?"

Susannah was habituated to some recognition of her beauty; she missed it
here, not knowing what she missed. Smith had known that it was important
for her to be sheltered from the wind; he was sorry that her skirts were
splashed; his manner, casual as it had been, had at least had in it that
element of "because you are you," the first essential of any human
relationship. But Susannah liked the young Quaker much better than
Smith; he was of finer fibre, and her heart was agape for young
companionship; so, unconsciously, she resented his indifference, not
only as to her sect but as to her sex.

"My father was an Englishman," she replied with dignity, not knowing why
this seemed suffi