The clouds are never at an end, but each one passes and melts away.

Ann! sorrow and joy are like the clouds and the sun." It is never destined that man should remain long in Eden.

About noon that day Ann heard a shout from the direction of the lake outside among the dead trees; the shout was repeated yet nearer, and in a minute or two she recognised the voice and heard the sound of oars splashing up the narrow channel made by the running creek.

The thought of this deliverance had not occurred to her; yet when she recognised the voice it seemed to her natural enough that David Brown should have divined where his canoe might have been brought.

She stood waiting while his boat came up the creek.