“Grant to little children,
Visions bright of Thee;
Guard the sailors tossing
On the deep, blue sea.”
“They are here,” said Ma McBirney in so solemn a voice that Jim and Azalea stared at her, wondering.
And so they were. They dismounted easily, threw their bridles, Western fashion, over the heads of their horses, and walked forward with pleasant greetings. But even their voices were different. They too seemed solemn.
“It must be the night,” thought Azalea. She took Carin’s hand, and they all walked back to the Point, and sat there watching the little islands of cloud as they floated across the path of the moon and turned from cloud into something precious and radiant, not quite so pale as silver nor as bright as gold.
CHAPTER XV
AZALEA CHOOSES
“We might be eagles—or angels,” murmured Mrs. Carson, sinking into her seat.
“We couldn’t stand it in the house any longer,” Carin explained. “We made up our minds we’d have a ride even if the roads were bad.”
“The ford must have been pretty deep,” remarked Pa McBirney.
“I took the leading straps of the horses the ladies were riding, and we made a rush for it together,” Mr. Carson explained.
Then silence fell. There certainly was something strange about the night.