bag, and when the missionary, hesitating, stopped in the middle of a passage, the Maestro nodded his head encouragingly. "Go on; it's all right," he said, and he passed something that glittered upon the ring-finger of the girl.
"Whom God hath united let no man part," said the missionary. He closed his book, stepped forward, and kissed the girl on the forehead.
"That was well done," said the Maestro. And he also kissed the girl, but not on the forehead.
They stood together for a while, speaking in absent-minded tones, the missionary of his missions, the Maestro of his schools, and then the Maestro and the girl started on again toward Bago. But Huston did not mount right away. He stood looking at them as they walked along the road, side by side, as they were to be through life, the dog frisking gleefully at their heels. They came to a turn in the highway and with a sudden joyous skip they vanished behind the cane, hand in hand like children.
Huston rose slowly into his saddle. "Come on, little horse," he said kindly; "come on; we're not in this."
