hether I
fail, or whether I succeed, it's a splendid adventure in ethics."

Abby and Daniel looked at each other when Susanna passed out of the
office door.

"'They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been
of us, they would have continued with us,'" he quoted quietly.

Abby wiped her eyes with her apron. "It's a hard road to travel
sometimes, Daniel!" she said.

"Yee; but think where it leads, Abby, think where it leads! You're not
going to complain of dust when you're treading the King's Highway!"

* * * * *

Susanna left the office with a drooping head, knowing the sadness she
had left behind. Brother Ansel sat under the trees near by, and his
shrewd eye perceived the drift of coming events.

"Well, Susanna," he drawled, "you're goin' to leave us, like most o' the
other 'jiners.' I can see that with one eye shut."

"Yes," she replied, with a half smile; "but you see, Ansel, I 'jined'
John Hathaway before I knew anything about Shaker doctrines."

"Yee; but what's to prevent your on-jinin' him? They used to tie up
married folks in the old times so't they couldn't move an inch. When
they read the constitution and by-laws over 'em they used to put in
'till death do us part.' That's the way my father was hitched to _his_
three wives, but death _did_ 'em part--fortunately for him!"

"'Till death us do part' is still in the marriage service," Susanna
said, "and I think of it very often."

"I want to know if that's there yit!" exclaimed Ansel, with apparent
surprise; "I thought they must be leavin' it out, there's so much
on-jinin' nowadays! Well, accordin' to my notions, if there _is_
anything wuss 'n marriage, it's hevin' it hold till death, for then
men-folks don't git any chance of a speritual life till afterwards. They
certainly don't when they're being dragged down by women-folks an' young
ones."

"I think the lasting part of the bargain makes it all the more solemn,"
Susanna argued.

"Oh, yes, it's solemn enough, but so's a prayer meetin', an' consid'able
more elevatin'"; and here Ansel regarded the surrounding scenery with
frowning disapproval, as if it left much to be desired.

"Don't you think that there are _any_ agreeable and pleasant women,
Ansel?" ventured Susanna.

"Land, yes; heaps of 'em; but they all wear Shaker bunnits!"

"I suppose you know more about the women in the outside world than most
of the Brothers, on account of traveling s