There was now no word of formal greeting. None was needed. Each seemingly knew the travail of soul of the other. Dropping down on the grass by her side he said quietly, as if it were unnecessary that he should speak at all, "I thought you were in the garden this afternoon." "And I thought you were in the garden," she returned. He looked at her in wondering gladness, saying, "I had a caller. After that I could not go." "And I--I too had a caller; and after that I--I could not go." The words were spoken almost in a whisper. Her trembling fingers were picking again at the short young grass; she was looking far away beyond the sweeping line of blue. One foot had slipped a little from under the protecting shelter of the blue skirt. He saw with a flush of anger that the shoe was very shabby. The skirt, too, showed unmistakable signs of wear. He controlled himself with difficulty, saying, "Your caller was--?" "Miss Charity Jordan. And yours?" "Elder Jordan." Dan looked away, and when he spoke again he said bitterly, "Then I suppose you know?" At his tone and manner she turned her face quickly to his, permitting him for the first time to search her eyes. It was as if she wanted to comfort him, to reassure him. "Yes!" she said softly, gladly, triumphantly, "Yes, I know!" Something in her confident reply caused the minister to forget all his half-formed resolutions. His work, his life, the possible outcome, the world itself--were lost in the overpowering rush of the passion-flood that swept his being. His deep voice trembled. "Then you know that I love you--love you!" He repeated the simple words as if laying his whole self--body, soul and spirit, at her feet. And the woman, in very wonder at the fullness of the offering, was as one transfixed and could find no word fit to express her acceptance of the gift. "It is my right to tell you this," he said proudly--defiantly almost, as though challenging some unseen spirit or power. "And it is your right to answer me." "Yes," she said, "it is our right." "Then you do care for me, Hope? I am not mistaken--you do?" "Can you doubt it?" she asked. He moved quickly toward her but she checked him, and while the love in her eyes answered to the mastering passion in his, she seemed in some subtle manner to build up a protecting wall between them, a wall to guard them both. "I do not understand," he faltered. "You must think," she bade him quietly, firmly. "Don't you see that, while it is right for you to tell me what you have, and right for me to tell you how proud--how glad your words have made me, and how with all my heart and life I--I--love you, this--," her voice faltered now, "don't you see that this must be all?" "All?" he questioned. "All," she answered. "Everything that I said to you the first day that we met here is still true. Don't you see that I can never, never be more to you than I am now?"