he landscape," returned the
other.

"Yes," went on the girl, her eyes as she leaned on her cousin's
shoulder resting on the deserted, weather-beaten building in the
distance, "when I first came, my heart just yearned toward that old
mill. It looked just as I felt. It had made up its mind never to
forgive. I had made up my mind never to forgive. Love has opened my
locked shutters, and do you know, Thinkright, some afternoons those
closed mill blinds seem to be melting in the sun. They grow so soft and
rosy, I watch them fascinated. It seems as if they were giving way and
I find myself expecting to see them slowly turn back. Oh," impulsively,
"I want them to turn back! Couldn't we get a ladder and row out there
some day and climb up and open them?"

Thinkright smiled. "They're nailed tight, dear, and they don't belong
to us."

Sylvia shook her head. "Well," she persisted whimsically, "I believe
they will open some time. I shan't be content until they do; and
somehow or other I shall be mixed up with it."

"Is that the good thing you are expecting?" asked Thinkright, smiling,
"to become a house-breaker?"

"No. Love will open the shutters yet. You don't understand me."

"Nothing that Love should accomplish would surprise me in the least,"
was the response. "Well, what is your hope then,--the thing you
referred to a few minutes ago?"

Sylvia's eyes looked across the water. "I'd better not tell you yet,"
she replied. "It isn't your problem. It's mine."

"Very well," agreed Thinkright. "Just keep remembering 'Thy will be
done,'--His great Will for good. His great Will that all shall be on
earth as it is in heaven; that all shall be good and harmonious; and
then your own little will and its puny strength won't get in the way,
and you will find yourself helping to carry out your Father's designs."

Sylvia took a deep breath. "That is what I want to do. Once I should
have been so happy, so contented to float in my boat with cushions and
a good story!"

"Well," Thinkright smiled, "I hope you're not going to lose that
ability. It has its place."

Sylvia turned her curly head until she met his shining eyes. "I'm too
strong now to play all the time," she said.

Her companion patted her arm. "Mrs. Lem says you are a regular busy
bee."

"Yes, but she did perfectly well without me."

Her companion met her gaze for a silent moment and speculated as to
what its gravity might mean.

"Are you thinking again of the stage