His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. Bordered by fine timber, the road occasionally offered glimpses of a lovely valley, until a wider opening gave a full view of a delightful and varied prospect. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. The terrors and anxieties of the last few months seemed to have fallen from her, to have passed away like an ugly dream, dismissed with a shudder even from the memory. "Strange!" observed the Master; "I thought he'd been at my elbow all this time. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. It was just a chance that we in particular hit against each other—nothing predestined about it.
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