and
by the dim light found a match and lighted the lamp on the centre table.

Last night had come again. The face of the clock was the only reminder
she had left the room, the face of the clock and a certain alertness
within herself. As she settled herself near the register and took the
astronomy from the pile her eye fell on her Bible, it was on the table
where Morris had laid it last night. Miss Prudence's words came to her,
warningly. Must she also give the fresh hour of her morning to God? The
tempting astronomy was open in her hand at the chapter _Via Lactea._
She glanced at it and read half a page, then dropped it suddenly and
reached forward for the Bible. She was afraid her thoughts would wander
to the unlearned lesson: in such a frame of mind, would it be an
acceptable offering? But who was accountable for her frame of mind? She
wavered no longer, with a little prayer that she might understand and
enjoy she opened to Malachi, and, reverently and thoughtfully, with no
feeling of being hurried, read the first and second chapters. She thought
awhile about the "blind for sacrifice," and in the second chapter found
words that meant something to her: "My covenant was with him of life and
peace." Life and peace! Peace! Had she ever known anything that was not
peace?

Before she had taken the astronomy into her hands again the door opened,
as if under protest of some kind, and Morris stood on the threshold,
looking at her with hesitation in his attitude.

"Come in," she invited, smiling at his attitude.

"But you don't want to talk."

"No; I have to study awhile. But you will not disturb; we have studied
often enough together for you to know how I study."

"I know! Not a word in edgewise."

Nevertheless he came to the arm-chair he had occupied last night and sat
down.

"Did you know the master gave me leave to take as many of his books as I
wanted? He says a literary sailor is a novelty."

"All his books are in boxes in the trunk room on the second floor."

"I know it. I am going up to look at them. I wish you could read his
letters. He urges me to live among men, not among books; to live out in
the world and mix with men and women; to live a man's life, and not a
hermit's!"

"Is he a hermit?"

"Rather. Will, Captain Will, is a man out among men; no hermit or student
about him; but he has read 'Captain Cook's Voyages' with zest and asked
me for something else, so I gave him 'Mutineers of the Bounty' and