the very heart of the person you love, and
love Him perfectly--and that _you_ can love _Him!_ Every love will then
be a separate heaven, and all the heavens will blend in one perfect
heaven--the love of God--the All in all."

They were walking like children, hand in hand: Ruth pressed that of her
uncle, for she could not answer in words.

Even to Dorothy their talk would have been vague, vague from the
intervening mist of her own atmosphere. To them it was vague only from
the wide stretch of its horizon, the distance of its zenith. There is
all difference between the vagueness belonging to an imperfect sight,
and the vagueness belonging to the distance of the outlook. But to walk
on up the hill of duty, is the only way out of the one into the other. I
think some only know they are laboring, hardly know they are climbing,
till they find themselves near the top.

CHAPTER LII.

THE LEVEL OF THE LYTHE.

Dorothy's faith in Polwarth had in the meantime largely increased. She
had not only come to trust him thoroughly, but gained much strength from
the confidence. As soon as she had taken Juliet her breakfast the next
morning, she went to meet him in the park, for so they had arranged the
night before.

She had before acquainted him with the promise Juliet had exacted from
her, that she would call her husband the moment she seemed in danger--a
possibility which Juliet regarded as a certainty; and had begged him to
think how they could contrive to have Faber within call. He had now a
plan to propose with this object in view, but began, apparently, at a
distance from it.

"You know, Miss Drake," he said, "that I am well acquainted with every
yard of this ground. Had your honored father asked me whether the Old
House was desirable for a residence, I should have expressed
considerable doubt. But there is one thing which would greatly improve
it--would indeed, I hope, entirely remove my objection to it. Many years
ago I noted the state of the stone steps leading up to the door: they
were much and diversely out of the level; and the cause was evident with
the first great rain: the lake filled the whole garden--to the top of
the second step. Now this, if it take place only once a year, must of
course cause damp in the house. But I think there is more than that will
account for. I have been in the cellars repeatedly, both before and
since your father bought it; and always found them too damp. The cause
of it, I think,