XXIII
A MAIDEN PRIESTESS
Perhaps her mother's woman-heart realized in that moment that the one path irresistible to a woman's love is the path of sacrifice. In any case she ceased from her protest and the gentle form arose; moving out to where he stood, she slipped her dear hand into Angus's, and together they walked slowly down the aisle of the crowded church. No sideward glance they cast nor backward did Margaret ever look. Sweet courage was shining from her face, even joy, as they passed out together—the long stride of the stalwart man and the gentle step of the dainty maiden, but ever hand in hand, hidden from the strife of tongues, in love's pavilion hidden.
They had wandered, knowing not where or whither, some distance from the church, when Angus stopped, and fixing his reverent look on Margaret's strangely happy face, he said:
"You don't know what you have done; you have tarnished your name—oh, Margaret, why did you do it? From henceforth you will share the shame that belongs to me."
Margaret's face was upturned to his own.
"Is not the sunshine sweet, Angus? And so pure! Surely God loves us well!"
"It shines upon no man so sad as I," he replied bitterly.
"Angus! After what I did—and the church so full!"
"Nor so happy—and so proud!" concluded Angus. "Where shall we go?"