Young Denton gathered both her hands into one of his own, while his
other rested lightly upon her shoulder.
"And after I have proven myself worthy may I claim my reward?" he
whispered. "May I ask my good angel to share her labors with me and so
crown her noble life with the seal of forgiveness?"
"I have nothing to forgive," whispered Faith, blushing deeply. "If
Christ has forgiven there is nothing further."
"And you will marry me, Faith, if I prove worthy?" he murmured. "For,
oh, I love you, sweetheart, and I cannot live without you!"
"I will marry you--yes," was the girl's low answer, "if at the end of a
year you are still in the faith--still carrying the light to the darkest
places."
There was just one kiss to seal the compact, but that kiss was a
benediction, a holy consummation.
* * * * *
Meanwhile Mr. Denton was still sitting in his chair, although the big
building was empty of all but its watchman.
His head was bowed down upon his bosom, as the year just passed spread
panorama-like before his vision.
What had he accomplished of his Master's work? He breathed a sigh that
it had been so little.
He had tried to put justice in the place of its opposite, to install
sweet liberty in the place of oppression.
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