boy's heart for you to put
your foot on!"

It was not a boy's strength in the quivering frame and tense, drawn
muscles. In his rare passions I admired Lute Cradlebow.

The greater meekness and patience which always followed, I attributed to
a lack of perseverance or a too easy abandonment of purpose.

"I hope you will be very happy all your life through, teacher;" he said,
as we stood at the door of the Ark; and he spoke very gently, and as
though he was going away then forever. Madeline had the key; she and her
companions had lingered at the school-house, as usual, after the meeting.
I murmured something about being very happy to have such a kind, true
friend; that I should probably leave Wallencamp before he went to sea,
but I hoped he would write me about his wanderings over the world, and I
should always be happy to answer and give him my sisterly advice.

Luther continued, thoughtfully, almost smiling:--

"You remember that night, teacher, ever so long ago it seems, before I
knew you, when the boys dragged me into the Ark and I kissed you? I've
always kissed the girls when they come home from anywhere, and I never
thought, you know. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Yes," I said. I think I must have looked amused. Luther answered the
laugh in my eyes with quiet appreciation.

"Well, teacher," he said; "I should like to kiss you just once to-night,
and mean it."

"That's a remarkable request," I said; "to come from my oldest pupil; but
it is my privilege to bestow, just once. If you will bend down from your
commanding height, and put yourself in an humble and submissive attitude
before me."

The Cradlebow knelt on the doorstep. I would have stooped to his
forehead, but he put up his arm with an extremely boyish, inoffensive
gesture, almost with a sob, I thought, to draw me closer.

I would have had that kiss as passionless as though it had been given to
a child. The Cradlebow's breath was pure upon my cheek--but I was
compelled to feel the answering flame creep slowly in my own blood.

"Never ask me to do that again!" I exclaimed, in righteous exculpation of
the act. "Never!"

CHAPTER VIII.

FESTIVITIES AT THE ARK.

Up from the beach, lightly tripping, capacious reticule in hand, came
Mrs. Barlow to spend the day at the Ark, unexpectedly! The inspired and
felicitous customs of the Wallencampers admitted of no rude surprises;
rational joy, alone, pervaded the Ark at this matutinal advent.