nd where Aunt
Faith at this moment stood, watching and awaiting them.

"Go into the blue bedroom, and lay off your things, child," she said,
giving Faith a kiss of welcome, "and then come back and we'll have our
tea."

Faith disappeared through passages and rooms beyond.

Aunt Henderson turned quickly to the minister.

"You're her spiritual adviser, ain't you?" she asked, abruptly.

"I ought to be," answered Mr. Armstrong.

"Why don't you advise her, then?"

"Spiritually, I do and will, in so far as so pure a spirit can need a
help from me. But--I think I know what you mean, Miss Henderson--spirit
and heart are two. I am a man; and she is--what you know."

Miss Henderson's keen eyes fixed themselves, for a minute, piercingly
and unflinchingly, on the minister's face. Then she turned, without a
word, and went into the house to see the tea brought in. She knew, now,
all there was to tell.

Faith's face interpreted itself to Mr. Armstrong. He saw that she
needed, that she would have, rest. Rest, this night, from all that of
late had given her weariness and trouble. So, he did not even talk to
her in the way they mostly talked together; he would not rouse, ever so
distantly, thought, that might, by so many subtle links, bear round upon
her hidden pain. But he brought, after tea, a tiny chessboard, and set
the delicate carved men upon it, and asked her if she knew the game.

"A little," she said. "What everybody always owns to knowing--the
moves."

"Suppose we play."

It was a very pleasant novelty--sitting down with this grave, earnest
friend to a game of skill--and seeing him bring to it all the resource
of power and thought that he bent, at other times, on more important
work.

"Not that, Miss Faith! You don't mean that! You put your queen in
danger."

"My queen is always a great trouble to me," said Faith, smiling, as she
retracted the half-made move. "I think I do better when I give her up in
exchange."

"Excuse me, Miss Faith; but that always seems to me a cowardly sort of
game. It is like giving up a great power in life because one is too weak
to claim and hold it."

"Only I make you lose yours, too."

"Yes, there is a double loss and inefficiency. Does that make a better
game, or one pleasanter to play?"

"There are two people, in there, talking riddles; and they don't even
know it," said Miss Henderson to her handmaid, in the kitchen close by.

Perhaps Mr. Armstrong, as he spoke, did discer