“What! in the wilderness?”
“Yes, I love the woods best.”
“An angel might love you for a companion,” murmured the missionary; then he added, aloud, “but have you never thought of a more extended field of usefulness? Is there nothing higher for which your mind and acquirements fit you?”
“No, never; but it was wrong of me,” she said, reproachfully. “I am afraid I have been very idle—what must I do? Is there anything I can do?”
“You have left nothing undone, my child; you have been everything to your grandmother, a guardian angel to your sister. But the time may come when they will not need you.”
“Then I shall come and ask what I am to do—you will teach me and help me, I know that well enough.”
“Always, child, darling, always!”
Mary clasped her hand over his again, and they stood, side by side, looking across the waters into the fading glory of the sunset. The crimson and gold died slowly away, the sombre tints of twilight struggled with the clear blue of the evening sky, a few stars came out and trembled on the horizon, as if eager to wing their flight towards the pale moon that had been riding the heavens a full hour, looking like a faded cloud amid the brightness of the setting sun.
The plash of oars disturbed them as they stood there. Mary looked quickly around.
“It cannot be Edward going so soon,” she said; “I did not know that any one else was on the island.”