ssertion was near the truth, for undeniably Ian and Thora
had been careless of any one but themselves. Yet their love was so
vital and primitive, so unaffected and sincere, that it touched the
sympathies of all. In this cold, far-northern island, it had all the
glow and warmth of some rose-crowned garden of a tropical paradise.
But such special days are like days set apart; they do not fit into
ordinary life and cannot be continued long under any circumstances. So
the last day came and Thora said:

"Mother, dear, it is a day in a thousand for beauty, and we are going
to get Aunt Brodie's carriage to ride over to Stromness and see the
queer, old town, and the Stones of Stenness."

"Go not near them. If you go into the cathedral you go expecting some
good to come to you; for angels may be resting in its holy aisles,
ready and glad to bless you. What will you ask of the ghosts among the
Stones of Stenness? Is there any favour you would take from the Baal
and Moloch worshipped with fire and blood among them?"

"Why, Mother," said Thora, "I have known many girls who went with
their lovers to Stenness purposely to join their hands through the
hole in Woden's Stone and thus take oath to love each other forever."

"Thou and Ian will take that oath in the holy church of St. Magnus."

"That is what we wish, Mother," said Ian. "We wish nothing less than
that."

"Well, then, go and see the queer, old, old town, and go to the
Mason's Arms, and you will get there a good dinner. After it ride
slowly back. Father will be home before six and must have his meal at
once."

"That is the thing we shall do, Mother. Ian thought it would be so
romantic to take a lunch with us and eat it among the Stones of
Stenness. But the Mason's Arms will be better. The Masons are good
men, Mother?"

"In all their generations, good men. Thy father is a Mason in high
standing."

"Yes, that is so! Then the Mason's Arms may be lucky to us?"

"We make things lucky or unlucky by our willing and doing; but even
so, it is not lucky to defy or deny what the dead have once held to be
good or bad."

"Well, then, why, Mother?"

"Not now, will we talk of whys and wherefores. It is easier to believe
than to think. Take, in this last day of Love's seven days, the full
joy of your lives and ask not why of anyone."

So the lovers went off gaily to see the land-locked bay and the
strange old town of Stromness; and the house was silent and lonely
without th