'That must be the right end of the thread,' said Hazel looking up. 'I ought to be able to find my way. But I shall have to send my boxes back empty, and take six months to find out what I want.' 'You do not know of anything that you want at present?' 'I thought I did!' said Hazel with a laugh,—'but how do I know? Maybe I have enough,—maybe somebody else wants it more. Olaf—is there an endless perspective of needy people in this world?' 'What if?' said Rollo. 'What if Life were one long day of ministry? does that look like a worthy end of life? and does it look pleasant?' 'I think—it does,' said Hazel slowly. 'I mean, I think it will. I have not looked yet. But then, at that rate—' 'Yes—what at that rate?' 'At that rate,' said Hazel, raising her eyes to his face, 'you would want the buttons off my gloves as well as off Prim's?' His fingers were slowly, tenderly, pushing back the curls from her temples and caressing the delicate brow as he spoke, and his eyes were grave now with thought and feeling. 'Hazel, I would like to pour flowers before your path all that long day, and to set you with jewels from head to feet. Diamonds could not be too bright, or roses too fair. And if the world were all right, I believe I should dress you so. But it is not all right. Suppose we were travelling in Greece, and I were captured by those brigands who fell upon the English party the other day; and suppose the ransom they demanded exceeded all you had in hand or could procure—how would you dress till my recovery was effected?' 'That would be you—' said Hazel quickly. 'And what is _this?_—Our Master, in captivity, hungry, sick, and naked,—literally and spiritually,—in the persons of his poor people. And the question is, how many can you and I save?' Wych Hazel rested her chin in her hand and said nothing. She felt exceedingly like "a mortal with clipped wings." Not that she really cared so much about dress, or the various other gay channels wherein she had poured out her fancies; something better than fancy had stirred and sprung and answered Dane's words in her heart as he spoke them. And yet the sudden whirlabout to all her thoughts and habits and ways, was very confusing. So she sat thinking,—with every dress she had in the world gravely presented itself, like a spectre, and all the glove buttons insisting upon being counted then and there. Suddenly, from the waves of blue silk a little foot started out into the firelight,—a foot half smothered in trimming; rosetted, buckled, beribboned, belaced. Hazel gazed at it,—and then gave up, and broke into a clear soft laugh, hiding her face in her hands. But as the laugh passed, she was very much ashamed to find that the hidden eyelashes were wet. Rollo watched her a little anxiously, but waited.