"In the world of society," said Thurston, "it is in the evening, after the labor or the business of the day is over, that the gayest scenes of festivity occur, just preceding the repose of sleep. So I receive your thought of the autumn--the evening of the year, preceding the rest of winter. Nature's year's work is done; she puts on her most gorgeous robes, and holds a festival before she sinks to her winter's sleep." Marian smiled brightly upon him. "Yes; my meaning, I believe, only more pointedly expressed." That smile--that smile! It lightened through all his nature with electric, life-giving, spirit-realizing power, elevating and inspiring his whole being. His face, too, was radiant with life as he answered the maiden's smile. But something in his eyes caused Marian's glances to fall, and the rosy clouds to roll up over her cheeks and brow. Then Thurston governed his countenance--let no ardent or admiring glance escape, and when he spoke again his manner and words were more deferential. "We spoke of the world of nature, Miss Mayfield; but how is it with the world of man? To many--nay, to most of the human race--autumn is the herald of a season not of festivity and repose, but of continued labor, and increased want and privation and suffering." "That is because society is not in harmony with nature; man has wandered as far from nature as from God," said Marian. "And as much needs a Saviour to lead him back to the one as to the other," replied Thurston. "You know that--you feel it?" asked Marian, turning upon him one of her soul-thrilling glances. Thurston trembled with delicious pleasure through all his frame; but, guarding his eyes, lest again they should frighten off her inspiring glances, he answered, fervently: "I know and feel it most profoundly." And Thurston thought he spoke the very truth, though in sober fact he had never thought or felt anything about the subject until now that Marian, his inspirer, poured her life-giving spirit into his soul. She spoke again, earnestly, ardently. "You know and feel it most profoundly! That deep knowledge and that deep feeling is the chrism oil that has anointed you a messenger and a laborer in the cause of humanity. 'Called and chosen,' be thou also faithful. There are many inspired, many anointed; but few are faithful!" "Thou, then, art the high priestess that hast poured the consecrated oil on my head. I will be faithful!" He spoke with such sudden enthusiasm, such abandon, that it had the effect of bringing Marian back to the moderation and _retenue_ of her usual manner. He saw it in the changed expression of her countenance; and what light or shade of feeling passed over that beautiful face unmarked of him? When he spoke again it was composedly.