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134 RAINBOW VALLEYhe stepped out to one of the birch trees and stripped abit of its white skin away. Deftly he fashioned thisinto a three-cornered cup, filled it from the spring, andhanded it to Rosemary.Rosemary took it and drank every drop to punishherself for her fib,for she was not in the least thirsty,and to drink a fairly large cupful of water when youare not thirsty issomethingof an ordeal. Yet thememory of that draught was to be very pleasant toRosemary. In after yearsit seemed to her that therewas something sacramental about it.Perhaps this wasbecause of what the minister did when she handed himback the cup. He stooped again and filled it and drankof it himself. It was only by accident that he put hislips just where Rosemary had put hers, and Rosemaryknew it. Nevertheless, it had a curious significancefor her. They two had drunk of the same cup. Sheremembered idly that an old aunt of hers used to saythat when two people did this their after-lives wouldbe linked in some fashion, whether for good or ill.John Meredith held the cup uncertainly. He did notknow what to do with it. The logical thing wouldhave been to toss itaway,but somehow he was disinclinedto do this. Rosemary held out her hand for it."Will youlet me have it ?" she said. "You made itso knackily. I never saw any one make a birch cupso since my little brother used to make them long agobefore he died.""I learned how to make them when / was a boy,