the other. He was a dear, sweet, lovable lad. Together,
they might realize her father's dream: repair the blunders, plant gardens
where the weeds now grew, drive out the old sad ghosts with living
voices. It had been a fine thought, a "King's thought." Others had
followed, profiting by his mistakes. But might it not be carried further
than even they had gone, shaped into some noble venture that should serve
the future.
Was not her America here? Why seek it further? What was this unknown
Force, that, against all sense and reason, seemed driving her out into
the wilderness to preach. Might it not be mere vanity, mere egoism.
Almost she had convinced herself.
And then there flashed remembrance of her mother. She, too, had laid
aside herself; had thought that love and duty could teach one to be other
than one was. The Ego was the all important thing, entrusted to us as
the talents of silver to the faithful servant: to be developed, not for
our own purposes, but for the service of the Master.
One did no good by suppressing one's nature. In the end it proved too
strong. Marriage with Arthur would be only repeating the mistake. To be
worshipped, to be served. It would be very pleasant, when one was in the
mood. But it would not satisfy her. There was something strong and
fierce and primitive in her nature--something that had come down to her
through the generations from some harness-girded ancestress--something
impelling her instinctively to choose the fighter; to share with him the
joy of battle, healing his wounds, giving him of her courage, exulting
with him in the victory.
The moon had risen clear of the entangling pines. It rode serene and
free.
Her father came to the station with her in the morning. The train was
not in: and they walked up and down and talked. Suddenly she remembered:
it had slipped her mind.
"Could I, as a child, have known an old clergyman?" she asked him. "At
least he wouldn't have been old then. I dropped into Chelsea Church one
evening and heard him preach; and on the way home I passed him again in
the street. It seemed to me that I had seen his face before. But not
for many years. I meant to write you about it, but forgot."
He had to turn aside for a moment to speak to an acquaintance about
business.
"Oh, it's possible," he answered on rejoining her. "What was his name?"
"I do not know," she answered. "He was not the regular Incumbent. But
it was some
|