have seen me walking with Hester. In a flash I anticipated all
the annoyance of it; he would talk of the matter far and wide.

But James Trent merely nodded and called out,

"Howdy, Miss Margaret. Taking a moonlight stroll by yourself?
Lovely night, ain't it?"

Just then his horse suddenly swerved, as if startled, and broke
into a gallop. They whirled around the curve of the road in an
instant. I felt relieved, but puzzled. JAMES TRENT HAD NOT SEEN
HESTER.

Down over the hill was Hugh Blair's place. When we came to it,
Hester turned in at the gate. Then, for the first time, I
understood why she had come back, and a blinding flash of joy
broke over my soul. I stopped and looked at her. Her deep eyes
gazed into mine, but she did not speak.

We went on. Hugh's house lay before us in the moonlight, grown
over by a tangle of vines. His garden was on our right, a quaint
spot, full of old-fashioned flowers growing in a sort of
disorderly sweetness. I trod on a bed of mint, and the spice of
it floated up to me like the incense of some strange, sacred,
solemn ceremonial. I felt unspeakably happy and blessed.

When we came to the door Hester said,

"Knock, Margaret."