Rachel sang; and these were the words that she sang:—
"And love is God, and God is love,
And earth beneath and Heaven above
Are swathed in it and bathed in it;
For every flower of tender grace
Hath God and Love writ on its face,
And silver shining stars on high
Spell Love and God across the sky."
When the last note of her song trembled away across the waters, there was silence between them while they looked at one another as only those who love and trust can look. Words were not needed between them. They were so absolutely united in spirit that outward expression of their love was unnecessary.
Then Luke took up his oars and rowed vigorously towards land.
"All things must have an end," he said, "even the happiest honeymoon that was ever spent. I suppose we must go back to our rooms."
"Must we yet? Let us stay out till the last minute. Perhaps we shall never have such an evening again together, with the moonlight on the sea."
"We'll come here next year," he answered laughing, "and after a year of happiness it ought to be better still. Why are you pessimistic?"
Rachel was silent for a moment, then she said, "I'm afraid of your work."
"Afraid? Why?" He leant towards her in surprise.
"Because I have a feeling that it will take you from me," she answered. She knew perfectly well by this time that his work was his passion. The thought of it had at times absorbed him even during their days of bliss. They had been so happy together, almost like light-hearted children, but Rachel had noticed the last few days that his parish and his people were engaging many of his thoughts and that he was getting a little restless. If his work weighed on his heart even during his wedding tour, thought Rachel, was there not a fear that it would be pre-eminent in his thoughts when in the midst of it, to the exclusion of her?