that is wont to creep to them through the leaves
has gone out like a candle before the winter winds? By reason of their
youth, I suppose they will judiciously conclude with themselves that
there is never going to be any blue sky again, that their lives will
stretch before them in a dark-hued stress of weather, empty of all save
leafless trees and frozen fields. My fledgeling, will they not be a
little ashamed of their short-sightedness when the spring has brought
back the sun?"

The girl's lips parted before her quickening breath, and the old nun
smiled at her tenderly as she moved away with her hands full of the
green symbols of healing. "Settle not the whole day of your life at its
morning, most dear child, but live it hour by hour," she said. "If you
would be of use now, go gather the flowers for the Holy Table, and when
themselves have drawn in holiness from the spot, then shall you bring
them to the sick woman over the hill."

"Yes, Sister," the girl said submissively. But when she had crossed the
daisied grass and opened the wicket gate and came out into the fragrant
lane, something seemed to divide her mind with the roses, for though
she sent one glance toward the hedge, she sent another to the spot
beyond--where the lane gave out upon the great Street to the City--and
after she had walked a little way toward the flowers, she turned and
walked a long way toward the road, until she had come where her eyes
could follow its white track far away over the hills.

"I wonder if I shall ever hunger for heaven as I hunger for the sight of
him," she murmured as she gazed.

But whatever the valleys might hold, the hillsides showed her nothing;
sighing, she turned back. "It seems to me," she said, "that if we could
have little tastes of heaven as we went along, then would there still be
enough left and the road would seem much shorter." Sighing, she set to
work upon the roses, that had twined themselves in a kindly veil over
the bushes.

Standing so, it happened that she did not see the horseman who was just
gaining the crest of the nearest hill between her and the City. The wind
being from her, she did not even hear the hoof-beats until the horse had
turned from the glare of the sun into the shadow of the fern-bordered
lane. The first she knew of it, she glanced over her shoulder and saw
the red-cloaked figure riding toward her along the grass-grown path.

As naturally as a flower opens its heart at the coming of the