Next morning, at the earliest dawn of day, Easter quitted her home. She had not tried to sleep; and she knew her father had not slept, for she had heard his heavy footstep moving to and fro in his bedroom. It had been his command that she should leave the shelter of his roof as soon as it was light, and she was obeying him. For the last time she opened her little casement, and looked out on the garden below, where the roses and hollyhocks and sunflowers were in blossom, and where the bees in the hive under her window were already beginning to stir. She was going away, not knowing whither she went: but she believed that God would be as faithful to His promises as her father was to his word. As she went slowly and sadly along the village lane, where the cottagers were still asleep, all the old familiar places looked strange at this strange hour and in the grey dawn. Even the churchyard, where she had played for hours together as a child, seemed different and foreign to her, as though she was cut off from all relations with it and her past life. Where was she to go? Whom could she turn to? She must not stay with Widow Evans, lest it should displease her father more. She was passing under the rectory wall, when she heard the old rector's voice calling her. "Easter!" he cried. "Easter, what are you about to do? Are you going to forsake your father?" "He has cast me off," she answered, weeping; "he will not let me stay if I do not deny God." "Dear! Dear! Dear!" cried the old rector. "He's an obstinate man, and I don't know what to say between you. You are two wilful ones, I fear. But I'll do my best to bring him round; and here, my lassie, here's five pounds for you, and a letter to my cousin, who will find you a place somewhere. Good-bye, and God bless you, Easter!" "Do you believe in God?" asked Easter, looking up at him through her tears. "Of course I do," he answered testily, "and so does your father. We believe in Him after one fashion, and you after another. But, Easter, yours is the best, I know."