“What if he would n't do it?”
“Why should n't he? Shakers take no vows, though I feel bound, hand and foot, out of gratitude. If any other two young folks went to him, he would marry them; and if he refuses, there are two other ministers in Albion, besides two more in Buryfield, five miles farther. If they won't marry us tonight, I'll leave you in some safe home and we 'll walk to Portland tomorrow. I'm young and strong, and I know I can earn our living somehow.”
“But we have n't the price of a lodging or a breakfast between us,” Hetty said tearfully. “Would it be sinful to take some of my basketwork and send back the money next week?”
“Yee, it would be so,” Nathan answered sternly. “The least we can do is to go away as empty-handed as we came. I can work for our breakfast.”
“Oh, I can't bear to disappoint Eldress Abby,” cried Hetty, breaking anew into tears. “She'll say we've run away to live on the lower plane after agreeing to crucify Nature and follow the angelic life!”
“I know; but there are five hundred people in Albion all living in marriage, and we shan't be the only sinners!” Nathan argued. “Oh, Sister Hetty, dear Hetty, keep up your spirits and trust to me!”
Nathan's hand stole out and met Hetty's in its warm clasp, the first hand touch that the two ignorant young creatures had ever felt. Nathan's knowledge of life had been a journey to the Canterbury Shakers in New Hampshire with Brother Issachar; Hetty's was limited to a few drives into Albion village, and half a dozen chats with the world's people who came to the Settlement to buy basketwork.
“I am not able to bear the Shaker life!” sighed Nathan. “Elder Gray allows there be such!”
“Nor I,” murmured Hetty. “Eldress Harriet knows I am no saint!”
Hetty's head was now on Nathan's shoulder. The stiff Shaker cap had resisted bravely, but the girl's head had yielded to the sweet proximity. Youth called to youth triumphantly; the Spirit was unheard, and all the theories of celibacy and the angelic life that had been poured into their ears vanished into thin air. The thick shade of the spruce tree hid the kiss that would have been so innocent, had they not given themselves to the Virgin Church; the drip, drip, drip of the branches on their young heads passed unheeded.