's match in
stedfastness, after all, or which of them would rule the roast in
marriage. But Marjory had never given it a thought, and accompanied her
father with the most unshaken innocence and unconcern.

The season was still so early that Will's customers were few and far
between; but the lilacs were already flowering, and the weather was so
mild that the party took dinner under the trellice, with the noise of the
river in their ears and the woods ringing about them with the songs of
birds. Will soon began to take a particular pleasure in these dinners.
The parson was rather a dull companion, with a habit of dozing at table;
but nothing rude or cruel ever fell from his lips. And as for the
parson's daughter, she suited her surroundings with the best grace
imaginable; and whatever she said seemed so pat and pretty that Will
conceived a great idea of her talents. He could see her face, as she
leaned forward, against a background of rising pinewoods; her eyes shone
peaceably; the light lay around her hair like a kerchief; something that
was hardly a smile rippled her pale cheeks, and Will could not contain
himself from gazing on her in an agreeable dismay. She looked, even in
her quietest moments, so complete in herself, and so quick with life down
to her finger tips and the very skirts of her dress, that the remainder
of created things became no more than a blot by comparison; and if Will
glanced away from her to her surroundings, the trees looked inanimate and
senseless, the clouds hung in heaven like dead things, and even the
mountain tops were disenchanted. The whole valley could not compare in
looks with this one girl.

Will was always observant in the society of his fellow-creatures; but his
observation became almost painfully eager in the case of Marjory. He
listened to all she uttered, and read her eyes, at the same time, for the
unspoken commentary. Many kind, simple, and sincere speeches found an
echo in his heart. He became conscious of a soul beautifully poised upon
itself, nothing doubting, nothing desiring, clothed in peace. It was not
possible to separate her thoughts from her appearance. The turn of her
wrist, the still sound of her voice, the light in her eyes, the lines of
her body, fell in tune with her grave and gentle words, like the
accompaniment that sustains and harmonises the voice of the singer. Her
influence was one thing, not to be divided or discussed, only to be felt
with gratit