an, father."

The minister looked up, wrinkling his forehead in the effort to
disentangle himself from his thoughts. The old maid crossed the room
toward him with her quick, hitching step.

"Don't try to get up, Joseph," she said, as he laid his hand on his
crutches; "I'll find myself a chair."

She sat down before him, crossing her hands in her lap. The little worn
band of gold was not on her finger, but there was a smooth white mark
where it had been.

"Samuel got home from presbytery yesterday; he told me what was before
them. I thought I'd like to have a little talk with you."

Her voice trembled as she stopped. A faint color showed itself through
the silvery stubble on the minister's cheeks; he patted the arms of his
chair nervously.

"I'm hardly prepared to discuss my opinions. They are vague, very vague,
at best. I should be sorry to unsettle the faith"--

"I don't care at all about your opinions," Miss Nancy interrupted,
pushing his words away with both hands; "I only wanted to speak to you
about Marg'et Ann."

"Marg'et Ann!" The minister's relief breathed itself out in gentle
surprise.

"Yes, Marg'et Ann. I think it's time somebody was thinking of her,
Joseph." Miss Nancy leaned forward, her face the color of a withered
rose. "She's doing over again what I did. Perhaps it was best for you. I
believe it was, and I don't want you to say a word,--you mustn't,--but I
can speak, and I'm not going to let Marg'et Ann live my life if I can
help it."

"I don't understand you, Nancy."

The minister laid his hands on his crutches and refused to be motioned
back into his chair. He stood before her, looking down anxiously into
her thin, eager face.

"I know you don't. Esther never understood, either. You didn't know that
Marg'et Ann gave up Lloyd Archer because he had doubts, but I knew it. I
wanted to speak then, but I couldn't--to her--Esther,--and now you don't
know that she's going to give him up again because you have doubts,
Joseph. That's the way with women. They have no principles, only to do
the hardest thing. But I know what it means to work and worry and pinch
and have nothing in the end, not even troubles of your own,--they would
be some comfort. And I'm going to save Marg'et Ann from it. I'm going
to come here and take her place. I've got a little something of my own,
you know; I always meant it for her."

She stopped, looking at him expectantly. The minister turned away,
rubbing his hands up