DESTINY



  In spite of her sadness a smile came to her lips.
  "And you were fighting your fight for life-with
only an even chance. Suppose " she shuddered-
"suppose you had lost it!"
  "I had too much to live for," he assured her. "I
couldn't lose it. You and your hills gave me life and
a dream, and you and your hills laid their claim upon
me. How could I lose"
  "I've lain awake at night," said Mary Burton, as
her long lashes drooped with the confession of her
heart. "I've lain awake at night wondering if-now
that you don't have to stay-if your own world won't
call you back-away from me. I've thought of all it
holds for you-and how little these mountains hold.
I've wondered if your heart didn't ache for foreign
lands and wonderful cities-and all those things. If
it does, dear-" she paused and said very seriously-
"you mustn't let me keep you here. I belong here, but
you-" The words fell into a faint note and died
away unfinished.
  "How little these hills hold for me," he exclaimed
in a dismayed voice, "when they hold you !" Then he
laughed and told her as his eyes dwelt steadfastly and
with worship on her face, "I belong here no less than
you. This has been the land of my salvation and of
my love. For me it is enough. I have traded the un-
rest of cities for the tranquillity of the hills and the
clamor of unhappy streets for the echoes of the woods,
and the woods sing of you as the streets could never
sing. I have traded at a splendid profit, dear."
  "And you won't tire of it-and of me"
  "I wish life could be long enough to give me a fair
test of that," he smiled, and then he added in a serious
voice, "It is in the cities that men and women grow



489