John Ward, Preacher

ented air had held an exhilaration like wine, but now night had folded a thin mist across the hills,

which people in the Middle States burn in happy indifference to its dust-making qualities, because of its charm of sudden-puffing fla

y prayer-meeting; and to sit now in front of the glowi

e color of the wind-swept October skies. He would not let Helen go. "The walk would tire you," he said; but he himself seemed to know no weariness, th

crisp grass of an upland pasture, and she could just distinguish the words o

kindness, lo

kindness, o

or lamps, was never lessened. True, there was generally a moral, but in his great desire to make it attractive John often concealed it, and was never quite sure that his stories did the good he intended. But they did good in another way; the children loved him, as most of them loved nothing else in their meagre, hungry little lives. And he loved them; they stirred the depths of tend

selves must early lose, which attracted and charmed the children, and

had had a quiet half hour for further thought upon his evening talk to his people, which had been prepared the day before.

excuse. "Yet think of the importance of speaking to any one i

e answered, "you take these things to

to prepare for that other life. Can we be too earnest dear, when eternity hangs upon the use

d, laying her head upon his sho

which had been strong a moment before to

ty so much miscellaneous information," she said, half laughing, yet quite in earnest. But she always went, for at least there was the pleasure of w

l that was said. She had grown restless, and looked about the narrow whitewashed room w

Then the meeting was open, and to some of the things said, Helen listened with indignant disapproval. As they walked home, rejoicing in the fresh cold air and the

he gleams of firelight; the tall clock ticked slowly in the corner, and on the hearts of

It was a good face to see: her clear brown eyes were large and full, with heavy lids which drooped a little at the outer corners, giving a look of question

it up to shield his eyes from the firelight, and

he said; "how stro

a nervous thrill in the pale fingers. "You see, they are about the same size, but mine is certainly much whiter.

ou know, Helen," he went on, after a moment's pause, "if I were in any pain, I mean any physical

with amused curiosity, turning it ab

I could endure any pain. I wonder," he went on, in a lower voice, as though thinking aloud, "if this strength of

him, surprised, not

ose anything,-that for your best good I had

gravely; "I hope I should

d thinking tenderly each of the other. But at last Helen roused herself

ched a conclusion? I'm not goi

len!" he said, a thril

we are not among the pale and sheeted nations of the dead, ever since I came to Lockhaven. And Elder Dean's pictures of the eternal torments of the damned, 'souls wreathing in sulphurous flames' (those were his words to-night, John!), and then praising God for his justice (his

come with such a shock, the blood leaped back to his heart, and for a moment he could not speak. He had never allowed himself

gently, "But, dearest

that different people have different religious necessities. One man is born a Roman Catholic, for instance, though his father and mother may be the sternest Protestants. He cannot help it; it is his nature! And you"-she looked up at him with

clear eyes. "Helen," he said, "I have wanted to speak to you of this; I have wanted to show

e, and dogma can never be an antidote for doubt, John. I must believe what my own soul asserts, or I am untrue to myself. I must begin with that

not let us ever discuss these things. After all, doctrine is of so little importance, and argument never can result in c

berately turn away from the searc

importance, no more part of the eternal verities than a man's-buttons are of his character! Now, remember," with smiling severity, "never again!" She laid her head

m, and her tender eyes looking into his, he cou

sy to forget his duty! Yet his conscience protes

l to drift into reminiscence, kneeling there in the firelight by her side, John almost forgot how the talk had begun, and neither of them gave a thought t

aning forward to give the fire that inevitable

Helen answered, listenin

s face as he entered, and Helen saw that, instead of i

o welcome him, and there was the little confusion of lighting

some writing I must do to-night, and I had forgotten it. Y

was driving Mr. Ward from his own firesid

will see you again," he added, turning to Gifford; and then h

ly room, struggling to see his duty through his love. But in that half hour up-stairs he reached no new conclusion. Helen's antipathy to doctrine was so marked, it was, as she said, useless to begin discussion; and it would be worse than useless to urge her to come to prayer-meeting, if she did not want to; it would only make her antagonistic t

said, "and it is a shame to disturb Mr. Ward

uil face to him with a gracious gentleness which never left her. "He will come back again," she said, "and he will be glad to have this wri

rd was opposite her, his hands thrust moodily into his pockets, his feet stretched straight out, and his head sunk on his breast. But he did not look as though he were resti

troubles yo

elbows on his knees, and propping his chin on his fists, and st

answered. But Gifford fo

ast, "and it has bothered me. I don't know how to tell

tory?" Helen asked, putting down he

e that. The fact is, Helen-the fact is-well, plainly, aunt

she had only surmised before, and she was betra

ine about myself, or anything like that. I'm not jealous; for Heaven's sake, don't think I am such a cur as to be jealous! If that man was wo

tand how you feel about Mr. Forsythe; every one speaks so highly of him. Even au

's just it," he said; "in this very letter aunt Ruth is enthusiastic, and I can't tell you anything tangible against him, only I don't like him, Helen. He's a puppy,

uld think," she said "you would know that if he is

of wool, beginning nervously to un

dn't see it," he

d not say that. (Don't tie my worsted into knots!) When you w

d if I said anything now, it would only mean that I was jealous, that I wanted her myself. Whereas, I give you my word," striking his fist sharply on hi

e ran her hand along her needle, and gave her elast

d-out sinner one can stand," he ended; "but all I saw of this Forsythe at the club and about town only made me set him down as a smal

d. The only thing to do now is to trust Lois. I have no anxiety about her; if he is what you say, her own

cried, "only I

n't love a man who was not good and noble. Perhaps, Gifford," she ventured,

ered, "I don't da

, and Gifford realized that it was very late. "Helen has

street, he saw them still standing in the doorway in the starlight; Helen leaning back a little against John

. "Well, that sort of happiness may never be for me, but it is so

r. Forsythe, and how that pleasure was encouraged by all her friends. That very evening, while Gifford was pouring his anxieties into her e

to feel that the responsibility of propriety rested upon him, and he sat with his head on Lois's knee, and his drowsy eyes blinking at Mr. Forsythe. His mistress pulled his silky ears gently, or knotted them behind his head, g

the trouble to bring him a biscuit to-day. Talk of gratitu

wered, taking the setter

course he does. I'd like to know how he could he

uld only see the curls about her forehead and one sma

t. In my young days, the children were never allowed to come any nearer the fireplace than the

e, "Max loves you because you are so kind to him, Mi

it is too hot in here, father; don't you thi

very entertaining, Mr. Forsythe. What do you think of this attack on our candidate? Contemptible, is

in a smiling whisper to Lois, he added, "I'

herself smiling in the darkness, and a thrill of p