“Hasn’t it been a wonderful day, papa?” said the girl, during a little lull in the general conversation.

“It certainly has, dear,” he replied, giving the small arm a fond pressure.

“And see!” she continued, glancing around the circle, “all of us, except Mr. and Mrs. Minturn, belong to Miss Katherine.”

“Well, bless my heart!” here laughingly interposed Mr. Minturn.  “Miss Dorothy, I think that is very unceremoniously crowding us out of our own domain.”

“You’ll know I didn’t mean to do any crowding when I tell you my thought,” she returned, and nodding brightly at him.  “You see, it was she who interested everyone of us in Science, and I think we ought to be called Miss Katherine’s sheaves.  You know it says in the Bible ’he who goes forth bearing precious seed shall come again bringing his sheaves with him.’  She sowed the seed at Hilton and has ‘gathered us all in’ here.”

“That is a very sweet thought, Dorrie, and it is true enough, too,” said her mother, as she bestowed a fond look upon Katherine.  “But,” she added, moving towards the door, “we must go home this very minute, for it is getting late,” and with general “good-nights” they also went away.

Katherine followed them out upon the veranda, where she stood leaning against the balustrade and watched their forms melt away in the darkness, a thrill of loving gratitude in her heart, for, were they not indeed her “sheaves”?

Presently she heard a step behind her, then a firm yet gentle hand was laid upon hers.

“May I have it for always, Katherine?” questioned Phillip Stanley, in a low voice, as he lifted and inclosed it in both of his.  “I could not say half I wished this morning, dear.  Poor Dorrie!”—­in a mirthful tone—­“did not realize how exceedingly de trop she was, and, for a moment, I was half tempted to be cross with her.  I saw Mr. and Mrs. Minturn after I returned from my drive and told them something of what I had tried, under such difficulties, to make you understand.”

“You told papa and mamma!”

“I had to—­I simply could not keep it.  I know you had given me no verbal authority to ask for what I wanted; but, ah!—­that look, that smile, as I left you, made me bold enough for anything.”

“And they—­”

“They told me that it would have to be just as Katherine said.  What does my ‘brown-eyed lassie’ say?”

Involuntarily the girl’s slender fingers closed over his hand as she lifted frank, sweet eyes to him.

“Yes, Phillip.”  Softly, shyly, the coveted answer fell on his ears.

“That means that you are mine, as I am yours,” he said, a great joy throbbing in his tones, “and”—­reverently—­“we are also to be one, in heart and purpose, in the service of our great cause.”

Drawing the hand he held within his arm, he led her down the steps out among the fairy shadows to a great rock that overlooked the sea.