, touching uncertainty, and
stretched out both hands to them in farewell.

How that poor twin heart struggled with itself is only known to God. All
human voices, and as they believed, also the Divine Voice, commanded the
division of their interwoven life. Submission would have seemed easier,
could they have taken up equal and similar burdens; but David was
unable to deny that his pack was overweighted. For the first time, their
thoughts began to diverge.

At last David said: "For mother's sake, Jonathan, as we promised. She
always called you HER child. And for Ruth's sake, and father's last
advice: they all tell me what I must do."

It was like the struggle between will and desire, in the same nature,
and none the less fierce or prolonged because the softer quality foresaw
its ultimate surrender. Long after he felt the step to be inevitable,
Jonathan sought to postpone it, but he was borne by all combined
influences nearer and nearer to the time.

And now the wedding-day came. David was to leave home the same evening,
after the family dinner under his father's roof. In the morning he said
to Jonathan: "I shall not write until I feel that I have become other
than now, but I shall always be here, in you, as you will be in me,
everywhere. Whenever you want me, I shall know it; and I think I shall
know when to return."

The hearts of all the people went out towards them as they stood
together in the little village church. Both were calm, but very pale and
abstracted in their expression, yet their marvellous likeness was still
unchanged. Ruth's eyes were cast down so they could not be seen; she
trembled visibly, and her voice was scarcely audible when she spoke the
vow. It was only known in the neighborhood that David was going to make
another journey. The truth could hardly have been guessed by persons
whose ideas follow the narrow round of their own experiences; had it
been, there would probably have been more condemnation than sympathy.
But in a vague way the presence of some deeper element was felt--the
falling of a shadow, although the outstretched wing was unseen. Far
above them, and above the shadow, watched the Infinite Pity, which was
not denied to three hearts that day.

It was a long time, more than a year, and Ruth was lulling her first
child on her bosom, before a letter came from David. He had wandered
westwards, purchased some lands on the outer line of settlement, and
appeared to be leading a wild and