On the morrow Julia arose, sweet and composed, with the old light in her eyes, and her wonted color coming and going with the mysterious emotions within.  She was almost gay and joyous at breakfast, and then grew fitful and restless, and then became pensive again.

The day was a marvel of the forward spring, and the sun filled the whole heavens with its wondrous light.  The blue bird called down in his flight, with his trill of gladness, and the robins flooded the leafless trees and the lawn with gushes of purest melody.  Julia could not remain in the house; she could not remain anywhere; and as the morning deepened, she took a sudden resolution and ordered Prince to be saddled at once.

“Mother,” said she, “I have the whole of this long, long day.  I must gallop off through the woods, around to Wilder’s.  I haven’t been there since last fall; and then I will come around by Mrs. Ridgeley’s and tell her, and so home.  Don’t gay a word, mother; I must go.  I cannot stay here.  I’ll be back in good time.”

So mounting Prince she bounded off.  When she felt herself going with the springy, elastic leap of her splendid steed, she thought she had found what she most wanted—­to go to that little blessed nook of shelter and repose under the rocks by the running stream, in the sun.  Something seemed to call her, and the day, the rapid motion, the exhilaration of the atmosphere, as she dashed through it, softened her excitement, and a calm, elevated, half-religious extasy possessed her; and the sky and air, and brown, desolate earth, just warming with the April sun, all glowed with hope.  How near to her seemed Heaven and all holy, sweet influences; and the centre of it all was one radiant, beautiful face, looking with sad, wistful eyes to her for love and life which she so wanted to give.  She felt and knew that to this one in some way, she would be fully revealed, and misconception and absence and doubt would vanish.  She should meet him, but just how he would look, or what he would say, or how she should or could answer him, she could not shadow out, and would not try.  All that, she was sure, would take care of itself, and he would know and understand her finally.

Prince seemed fully to appreciate the day, and to be inspired with its subtle and exhilarating elixir; but after a mile or two of over-spirit, he sobered down into his long, easy, springy, untiring gallop.  They passed the fields and went along the hard and dry highway, till she reached the diverging trail that struck off through the woods toward the settlement on the other side, the nearest house of which was Wilder’s.