lad young voice carolled
through the listening woods:

"Holy, holy, holy! All
Heaven's triumphant choir shall sing,
When the ransomed nations fall
At the footstool of their King:
Then shall saints and seraphim,
Hearts and voices, swell one hymn
Round the throne with full accord,
Holy, holy, holy Lord!"

There was silence when the music ceased. She had turned her face towards
the church, and, as the melody died away in one prolonged, triumphant
chord, she still stood in reverent attitude, as though listening for the
words of benediction. He, too, was silent, but his eyes were fixed on
her. He was thirty-five, she not twenty. He had lived his soldier life
wifeless, but, like other soldiers, his heart had had its rubs and aches
in the days gone by. Years before he had thought life a black void when
the girl he fancied while yet he wore the Academic gray calmly told him
she preferred another. Nor had the intervening years been devoid of
their occasional yearnings for a mate of his own in the isolation of the
frontier or the monotony of garrison life; but flitting fancies had left
no trace upon his strong heart. The love of his life only dawned upon
him at this late day when he looked into her glorious eyes and his whole
soul went out in passionate worship of the fair girl whose presence
made that sunlit lane a heaven. Were he to live a thousand years, no
scene on earth could rival in his eyes the love-haunted woodland pathway
wherein like forest queen she stood, the sunshine and leafy shadows
dancing over her graceful form, the golden-rod enhancing her dark and
glowing beauty, the sacred influences of the day throwing their mystic
charm about her as though angels guarded and shielded her from harm. His
life had reached its climax; his fate was sealed; his heart and soul
were centred in one sweet girl,--and all in one brief hour in the
woodland lane at Sablon.

She could not fail to see the deep emotion in his eyes as at last she
turned to break the silence.

"Shall we go?" she said, simply.

"It is time; but I wish we could remain."

"You do not go to church very often at Sibley, do you?"

"I have not, heretofore; but you would teach me to worship." "You _have_
taught me," he muttered below his breath, as he extended a hand to
assist her down the sloping bank towards the avenue. She looked up
quickly once more, pleased, yet shy, and shifted her great bunch of
golden-rod so that she could lay