"And you, sir, have the goodness to walk a few steps with me." The Harvester sprang up and brought Mr.Herron his coat and hat and held the door.

The Girl brushed past him.
"To the oak," she whispered.
They went into the night, and without a word the Harvester took his guest's arm and guided him up the hill.

When they reached the two mounds the moon shining between the branches touched the lily faces with with holy whiteness.
"She sleeps there," said the Harvester, indicating the place.
Then he turned and went down the path a little distance and waited until he feared the night air would chill the broken old man.
"You can see better to-morrow," he said as he touched the shaking figure and assisted it to arise.
"Your work ?" Mr.Alexander Herron touched the lilies with his walking stick.
The Harvester assented.
"Do you mind if I carry one to Marcella ?" The Harvester trembled as he stooped to select the largest and whitest, and with sudden illumination, he fully understood.

He helped the tottering old man to the cabin, where he sat silently before the fireplace softly touching the lily face with his lips.
"I have put grandmother in my bed, tucked her in warmly, and she says it is soft and fine," laughed the Girl, coming to them.

"Now you go before she falls asleep, and I hope you will rest well." She bent and kissed him.
The Harvester held the door.
"Can I be of any service ?" he inquired.
"No, I'm no helpless child." "Then to my best wishes for sound sleep the remainder of the night, I will add this," said the Harvester----"You may rest in peace concerning your dear girl.