“Thou wert wrong to listen,” said Walda.
“Thou hast spoken often with the stranger in Zanah.”
“True, but we talked of books, and the woods; of the wonders of the heavens and the glories of the earth.”
“We spoke few words, but they gave me strange strength. The earth seemed a pleasanter place after we had talked together. Hast thou never known a day when suddenly the flowers became more beautiful and the sun shone brighter?”
“Yea, lately, since the inspiration hath come to me, it is as if Zanah were bathed in a heavenly radiance. But tell me more, Frieda.”
“The days became pleasant; every one was joyous. There was in my heart a singing that made me care not for the reproofs of the village mothers.”
“I know what thou meanest. Thy experiences are not different from mine.” Walda looked into her companion’s face with a smile of sympathy. “Disturb not thyself any longer. Thou hast the revelation of divinity that the Lord sendeth to those who serve Him. Why didst thou think this new glory in thy life was an earthly love? Foolish girl, I am glad that I did have this chance to probe thy heart to-day.”
“It was not love of God that was in my heart, Walda.” Frieda looked into the fire and shook her head thoughtfully. “Else why should I look each day for a glimpse of Joseph Hoff? Why should the simplest word from him be more to me than the longest prayer of any of the elders? Even if I had thought in the beginning that the tumult in my heart was due to the fervor of my religious faith, I found out very soon that it was Joseph Hoff I loved.”
“How did the revelation come?” Walda whispered.
“One day, when I went back into the hay-field to find a rake I had left, Joseph Hoff, who was working on the top of the stack, came down to the field, and, taking both my hands, he kissed me.” Frieda lifted the corner of her apron and half hid her face as she made this confession.