She agreed, and dressed for the occasion in a light grey cloak, a matching hat, and workmanlike walking boots, all of which had been bought for her by Mary in nearby bustling Campbelltown. He led her along a path she had not seen before, following a placid stream. They reached a log, and he waved an arm towards it. ‘Let us sit awhile, Alice.’ He slumped onto the log. ‘My poor heart, the surgeon tells me I must rest it frequently if I am to live to a respectable age.’ Slowly, his panting breath eased. ‘The Lord has spoken to me about you, Alice. Often. Clearly, He has observed your mind growing in wisdom, and the precious gifts of knowledge you dispense so generously, so sweetly, to your pupils.’ ‘Oh, sir. I enjoy making those gifts, as you call them.’ ‘And Alice,’ now he looked into directly her eyes, his face a puzzling mix of happiness and nervousness. ‘The Lord…’ He stopped, drew a shaky breath. Then resolve; earnest, convinced, swept away the uncertainty in his eyes.
