Myrtle was contented with this statement, and asked no questions, and it was a perfectly understood thing that nobody alluded to the subject in her presence.  It followed from all this that the name of Clement Lindsay had no peculiar meaning for her.  Nor was she like to recognize him as the youth in whose company she had gone through her mortal peril, for all her recollections were confused and dreamlike from the moment when she awoke and found herself in the foaming rapids just above the fall, until that when her senses returned, and she saw Master Byles Gridley standing over her with that look of tenderness in his square features which had lingered in her recollection, and made her feel towards him as if she were his daughter.

Now this had its advantage; for as Clement was Susan’s young man, and had been so for two or three years, it would have been a great pity to have any such curious relations established between him and Myrtle Hazard as a consciousness on both sides of what had happened would naturally suggest.

“Who is this Clement Lindsay, Bathsheba?” Myrtle asked.

Why, Myrtle, don’t you remember about Susan Posey’s is-to-be,—­the young man that has been well, I don’t know, but I suppose engaged to her ever since they were children almost?”

“Yes, yes, I remember now.  Oh dear!  I have forgotten so many things, I should think I had been dead and was coming back to life again.  Do you know anything about him, Bathsheba?  Did n’t somebody say he was very handsome?  I wonder if he is really in love with Susan Posey.  Such a simple thing?  I want to see him.  I have seen so few young men.”

As Myrtle said these words, she lifted the sleeve a little on her left arm, by a half-instinctive and half-voluntary movement.  The glimmering gold of Judith Pride’s bracelet flashed out the yellow gleam which has been the reddening of so many hands and the blackening of so, many souls since that innocent sin-breeder was first picked up in the land of Havilah.  There came a sudden light into her eye, such as Bathsheba had never seen there before.  It looked to her as if Myrtle were saying unconsciously to herself that she had the power of beauty, and would like to try its influence on the handsome young man whom she was soon to meet, even at the risk of unseating poor little Susan in his affections.  This pained the gentle and humble-minded girl, who, without having tasted the world’s pleasures, had meekly consecrated herself to the lowly duties which lay nearest to her.  For Bathsheba’s phrasing of life was in the monosyllables of a rigid faith.  Her conceptions of the human soul were all simplicity and purity, but elementary.  She could not conceive the vast license the creative energy allows itself in mingling the instincts which, after long conflict, may come into harmonious adjustment.  The flash which Myrtle’s eye had caught from the gleam of the golden bracelet filled Bathsheba with a sudden fear that she was like to be led away by the vanities of that world lying in wickedness of which the minister’s daughter had heard so much and seen so little.