childish ears what a signal of pleasure that had always been!
— and now — she sighed, and stopping at a little distance,
looked for Hugh. He was there; she saw him in a moment going
forward to stop the machinery, the piece of timber in hand
having walked its utmost length up to the saw; she saw him
throwing aside the new-cut board, and adjusting what was left
till it was ready for another march up to head-quarters. When
it stopped the second time, Fleda went forward. Hugh must have
been busy in his own thoughts, for he did not see her until he
had again adjusted the log, and set the noisy works in motion.
She stood still. Several huge timbers lay close by, ready for
the saw; and on one of them where he had been sitting, Fleda
saw his Bible lying open. As her eye went from it to him, it
struck her heart with a pang that he looked tired, and that
there was a something of delicacy, even of fragility, in the
air of face and figure both.

He came to meet her, and welcomed her with a smile, that
coming upon this feeling set Fleda's heart a-quivering. Hugh's
smile was always one of very great sweetness, though never
unshadowed; there was often something ethereal in its pure
gentleness. This time it seemed even sweeter than usual; but
though not sadder, perhaps less sad, Fleda could hardly
command herself to reply to it. She could not at the moment
speak; her eye glanced at his open book.

"Yes, it rests me," he said, answering her.

"Rests you, dear Hugh!" —