I thought you were always in your office at this time." "I waited to see you this morning," replied Stephen, in a tone as simply honest as her own.

"I wanted to speak to you." Mercy looked up inquiringly, but did not speak.

Stephen smiled.
"Oh, not for any particular thing," he said: "only for the pleasure of it." Then Mercy smiled, and the two looked into each other's faces with a joy which neither attempted to disguise.

Stephen took Mercy's basket from her arm; and they walked along in silence, not knowing that it was silence, so full was it of sweet meanings to them in the simple fact that they were walking by each other's side.

The few words they did speak were of the purposeless and irrelevant sort in which unacknowledged lovers do so universally express themselves in their earlier moments alone together,--a sort of speech more like birds chirping than like ordinary language.