"No."
"Am I welcome?"
"In every sense of the word," was the ingenuous response. This was their plighting.
The sun was not up, when Ida raised the parlor windows next morning. Above the dun zone of forest, rested another, of silvery grey vapor, and higher, legions of fleecy cloudlets, from all parts of the heavens, hung motionless, as angels may hover, in rapt adoration, over the crystal walls of the New Jerusalem. He arose! the "bridegroom of earth and brother of time!" and her simile changed—as assuming roseate and golden robes, the expectant host wove themselves into a gorgeous causeway, by which he seemed to mount the heavens. So "Jesus left the dead!" the Sun of Righteousness burst His prison gates; and the shining ones sang the consummation of a world's redemption. She was reading her Bible, alternately with the resplendent leaf Nature unfurled this autumnal Sabbath, when a step dispelled her trance.
"Good morning!" said Mr. Lacy. "You are an early riser."
"There is my reward!" pointing to the scene without.
"May I participate, in virtue of my second-best claim?" asked he, with his own beaming smile, seating himself before she assented. Ida's trifling embarrassment was transient. His behavior, open and free, as of old, had not a tincture of reserve, or significance to indicate that he thought of their new relation. The beauty of our lower sanctuary; the upper, which it dimly shadows forth; Annie's sickness and death; the Christian's work and hopes—were the matter of their conversation; and as the rest assembled, they were spared the disagreeable sensation one feels at interrupting a tête-à-tête.
"Is it time to ring the prayer-bell, Ida?" asked Emma, as the last loiterer came in.
"I think so. We breakfast early on Sunday mornings, that we may be at school in season," she said to Mrs. Dana.
It was her practice to lead in family worship, night and morning. Arthur had performed this office the evening before, and the servants having collected in the hall, she motioned him to the stand, where lay the Bible.