gets huffed at none. The
other is that the love we have for each other is of the same warp and
woof as His for us, and _love is enough_, Jamie."

"Aye, love is shure enough an' enough's as good as a faste, but what
about childther if th' come, Anna?"

"We don't cross a stile till we come to it, do we?"

"That's right, that's right, acushla; now we're as rich as lords, aren't
we, but I'm th' richest, amn't I? I've got you an' you've only got me."

"I've got book learning, but you've got love and a trade, what more do I
want? You've got more love than any man that ever wooed a woman--so I'm
richer, amn't I?"

"Oh, God," Jamie said, "but isn't this th' lovely world, eh, Anna?"

Within a mile of Antrim they saw a cottage, perched on a high bluff by
the roadside. It was reached by stone steps. They climbed the steps to
ask for a drink of water. They were kindly received. The owner was a
follower of Wesley and his conversation at the well was in sharp
contrast to the philosophy at the stone-pile. The young journeyman and
his wife were profoundly impressed with the place. The stone cottage was
vine-clad. There were beautiful trees and a garden. The June flowers
were in bloom and a cow grazed in the pasture near by.

"Some day we'll haave a home like this," Jamie said as they descended
the steps. Anna named it "The Mount of Temptation," for it was the
nearest she had ever been to the sin of envy. A one-armed Crimean
pensioner named Steele occupied it during my youth. It could be seen
from Pogue's entry and Anna used to point it out and tell the story of
that memorable journey. In days when clouds were heavy and low and the
gaunt wolf stood at the door she would say: "Do you mind the journey to
Antrim, Jamie?"

"Aye," he would say with a sigh, "an' we've been in love ever since,
haven't we, Anna?"

CHAPTER II

THE WOLF AND THE CARPENTER

For a year after their arrival in Antrim they lived in the home of the
master-shoemaker for whom Jamie worked as journeyman. It was a great
hardship, for there was no privacy and their daily walk and
conversation, in front of strangers, was of the "yea, yea" and "nay,
nay" order. In the summer time they spent their Sundays on the banks of
Lough Neagh, taking whatever food they needed and cooking it on the
sand. They continued their courting in that way. They watched the
water-fowl on the great wide marsh, they waded in the water and played
as children play. In more serious