this way."

"You who are truthful should face the truth. It would make you happier. A
good deal that was unexpected has happened. When I look out on a scene like
this and think that I am safe and at home, I feel that God has been very good
to me and that you have, too. I can't bear to think that you have that old
trouble on your mind--the feeling that you had been a Christian once, but was
not one now. Being sure that there is no need of your continuing to feel so,
what sort of return would I be making for all your kindness if I did not try
to show you what is as clear to me as this sunshine?"

"You are a good woman, Alida. Believing as you do, you have done right to
speak to me, and I never believed mortal lips could speak so to the purpose.
I shall think of what you have said, for you have put things in a new light.
But say, Alida, what on earth possesses you to call me 'Mr.'? You don't need
to be scared half to death every time to call me by my first name, do you?"

"Scared? Oh, no!" She was a trifle confused, he thought, but then her tone
was completely reassuring.

The day was one long remembered by both. As in nature about them, the
conditions of development and rapid change now existed.

She did not read aloud very much, and long silences fell between them. They
were reaching a higher plane of companionship, in which words are not always
essential. Both had much to think about, and their thoughts were like roots
which prepare for blossom and fruit.

With Monday, busy life was resumed. The farmer began planting his corn and
Alida her flower seeds. Almost every day now added to the brood of little