thought, and was very, very happy. Just before nine he arose, and looked up and down the road. He could see either way for half a mile. Sarah was not visible. Then she was coming through the wood, and with a still, sweet thrill of expectation he went to meet her. In a few moments she appeared, and oh, how fair and sweet she looked in the dim path with the green, arching trees above her!
He took her hands and elapsed them in his own. "My own dear wife! Thank thee for coming!" He drew her firmly to his side, and he almost whispered the words over again, because it seemed far sweeter to say them in a voice so low that it compelled him to bend down to her dear face in order to make himself underderstood. And then their feet were upon enchanted ground, and knew a joy more sweet and pure than any hearts can comprehend, save those that have been tried by sorrow and strenghtened by self-abnegation. It was no green harvest of unripe love, hastily gathered by impatient youth before the ears are full and golden. In Barton Wood, Sarah and Jonathan had one hour of sweetest confidence, in which
