m as if she never wanted to
leave him. Neither could speak. He stroked her hair, kissed her cheeks,
her eyes, wiped away her tears, unaware of those which ran unhindered
down his own face....

"Carlia, my darling, Carlia," he breathed.

"Dorian, Oh, Dorian, _how_--_good_--_you_--_are_!"

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

It was a day in June--nearly a year from the time of the
"understanding"--a day made more beautiful because of its being in the
mountains and on a Sunday afternoon. Dorian and Carlia lived in the
midst of its rarity, seated as they were on the grassy hill-side
overlooking the dry-land farms near at hand and the valley below,
through which tumbled the brook. The wild odor of hill plants mingled
with the pungent fragrance of choke-cherry blossoms. The air was as
clear as crystal. The mountains stood about them in silent, solemn
watchfulness, strong and sure as the ages. The red glowed in Carlia's
lips again, and the roses in her cheeks. The careworn look was gone from
her face. Peace had come into her heart, peace with herself, with the
man she loved, and with God.

Dorian pointed out to her where the wild strawberries grew down in the
valley, and where the best service berries could be found on the hills.
He told her how the singing creek had, when he was alone in the hills,
echoed all his varied moods.

Then they were silent for a time, letting the contentment of their love
suffice. For now all barriers between these two were down. There was no
thought they could not share, no joy neither trouble they could not meet
together. However, they were very careful of each other; their present
peace and content had not easily been reached. They had come "up through
great tribulation," even thus far in their young lives. The period of
their purification seemed now to be drawing to a close, and they were
entering upon a season of rest for the soul.

"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." This promise is
surely not limited to that hoped-for future time when we shall have laid
aside mortality, but the pure in heart see much of God here and now--see
Him in the beauty of hill and dale, in cloud and blue sky, in placid
pool and running water, in flowers and insect, and in the wonderful
workings of the human heart! And so Dorian Trent and Carlia Duke, being
of the pure in heart, saw much of God and His glory that afternoon.

Then they talked again of the home folks, of Mildred Brown, and of Uncle