How like a king among men he looked, as he stood there, his hands filled too with mosses and lichens, looking kindly on the boy and talking interestedly. She never realised her utter folly so keenly as at this moment. How she longed to fly to him and fall at his feet in sorrowful confession. Two things kept her back: no eyes must witness their first meeting, and another dreadful thought—what if it were too late. What if he had taken her at her word and loved another.
She had not been a woman of the world so long for naught. She was an adept in hiding her heart far out of sight. When Harry returned she could calmly ask him, "Whom he had found in that out-of-the-way place?"
"Why, don't you think!" said Harry, "among all the other precious things in these woods I've found a minister. Wish we could put him right on top of our boughs and things, and carry him home too, for Christmas. Wouldn't mother be glad to see him, though! He preaches every Sunday in a log church right down hereaways, and the people come from all round the country to hear him. He looks as if he could preach, too. Such eyes as he has, that look you through and through. Say, let's you and me go to hear him next Sunday, will you?"
"Yes, I will!" Vida said, with such fervour and emphasis that Harry gave her a keen look and wondered why she had a bright red spot in each cheek. He wondered more before they reached home, for his cousin laughed and sung in childlike glee, and was sad and silent by turns. Her restlessness could not wait until the Sabbath. The excitement and suspense were unendurable.
Confiding in her aunt, it was arranged between them that Moses, the old coloured man of all work, should accompany her to Cedar Vale the next afternoon. Just what she would do when she reached there was not clear to her, but stay away she could not.
When the children were well off to school again after the nooning, Vida, mounted on a fleet little pony, attended by her trusty guide, rode quietly away. Her heart beat wildly when they drew near the settlement. They came at last upon the church, standing in a lovely grove of maples. The door stood slightly ajar. At a little distance from it Vida dismounted, and directed Moses to wait there for her. She had a consuming desire to look into the church where her husband preached, to stand a moment in the very spot where he stood Sabbath after Sabbath.
She stepped softly in, and there, kneeling by the little pulpit, his head bowed upon the desk, was—her husband!
Timidly and slowly, as one who has no right, she noiselessly drew near and knelt beside him. Stranger eyes may not look upon a scene so sacred; but the two souls bowed together before that altar came nearer to heaven than mortals often get.
Had not the waning light warned them that they were still upon the earth, they might never have tired of looking into one another's eyes, and telling each to each the experiences of that lifetime they had lived since their separation, and striving to put into words the depths of joy that crowned this blessed hour.
Before they left the church they knelt again in that sacred spot, and each in low fervent words poured out thanksgivings, craving a blessing on their reunited lives, and, by a mutual and irresistible impulse, both spoke again their marriage vows before the Lord, in his temple.