How great his trust! Hannah, waving her apron back there and wiping her eyes, trusted him.

And so did Hughie and Joan and even perhaps old Adam Craig; and Mr.Abbott whose gentle grilling he had endured with merely surface patience.
"Don't cry, Joan, please!" he begged, understanding how dear familiar things are apt to loom in the pain of separation.

And then with her hand to his lips, he pledged himself to make her happiness the religion of his love.

It was a pledge he was destined to keep inviolate.
Ordinarily to Kenny, impatient in intervals of discomfort and delay, the trip with its rural junctions and branch roads would have been interminable torture.

But to-day, with Joan's eyes, wide, dark, intent, he chose to marvel with her.
They lunched at noon between trains in a little country inn.