e is most, which one is least,
In this surrendering victory?

To that green point of sunny land,
Hemmed in by mountains stern and high,
I called my love, and, hand in hand,
We watched the streams that hurried by.

Chapter IX.

It was a turning-point in Mercy's life when she met Parson Dorrance. Here
at last was a man who had strength enough to influence her, culture enough
to teach her, and the firm moral rectitude which her nature so inexorably
demanded. During the first few weeks of their acquaintance, Mercy was
conscious of an insatiable desire to be in his presence: it was an
intellectual and a moral thirst. Nothing could be farther removed from the
absorbing consciousness which passionate love feels of its object, than
was this sentiment she felt toward Parson Dorrance. If he had been a being
from another planet, it could not have been more so. In fact, it was very
much as if another planet had been added to her world,--a planet which
threw brilliant light into every dark corner of this one. She questioned
him eagerly. Her old doubts and perplexities, which Mr. Allen's narrower
mind had been unable to comprehend or to help, were now set at rest and
cleared up by a spiritual vision far keener than her own. Her mind was fed
and trained by an intellect so much stronger than her own that it
compelled her assent and her allegiance. She came to him almost as a
maiden, in the ancient days of Greece, would have gone to the oracle of
the holiest shrine. Parson Dorrance in his turn was as much impressed by
Mercy; but he was never able to see in her simply the pupil, the
questioner. To him she was also a warm and glowing personality, a young
and beautiful woman. Parson Dorrance's hair was white as snow; but his
eyes were as keen and dark as in his youth, his step as firm, and his
pulse as quick. Long before he dreamed of such a thing, he might have
known, if he had taken counsel of his heart, that Mercy was becoming to
him the one woman in the world. There was always this peculiarity in
Mercy's influence upon all who came to love her. She was so unique and
incalculable a person that she made all other women seem by comparison
with her monotonous and wearying. Intimacy with her had a subtle flavor to
it, by which other flavors were dulled. The very impersonality of her
enthusiasms and interests, her capacity for looking on a person for the
time being merely as a representative or mouth-piece, so to