Not that he perceived what was going on in her mind, but her expression made him aware, all at once, of the morning-quiet. Far down the valley a horse neighed and a bird swooping past the window cast in on them one thrilling phrase of music. And Connor saw the girl change under his very eye. She was looking straight at him without seeing his face and into whatever distance her glance went he felt that he could not follow her. Here at the very threshold of success the old ledger was proving a more dangerous enemy than David himself. Connor fumbled for words, the Open Sesame which would let in the common sense of the everyday world upon the girl. But the very fear of that crisis kept him dumb. He glanced from the pale hand on the ledger to her face, and it seemed to him that beauty had fallen upon her out of the book.
"The woman is here! God has sent her!"
At that she cried out faintly, her voice trembling with self-scorn: "God has sent me—me!"
"The heart of David stood up and beat in his throat when he saw her," went on the rough, strong writing. "She passed the gate. Every step she took was into the soul of David. As I went beside her the trees grew taller and the sky was more blue.
"She has passed the gate. She is here. She is mine!
"What am I that she should be mine? God has sent her to show me that my strength is clumsy. I have no words to fit her. When I look into her eyes I see her soul; my vision leaps from star to star, a great distance, and I am filled with humility. O Father in Heaven, having led her to my hand, teach me to give her happiness, to pour her spirit full of content."
She closed the book reverently and pressed her hands against her face. He heard her murmuring: "What have I done? God forgive me!"
Connor grew angry. It was no time for trifling.
He touched her arm: "Come on out of this, Ruth. If you're going to get religion, try it later."
At that she flung away and faced him, and what he saw was a revelation of angry scorn.