husband does; it is quite wrong in dear
Helen not to, and it will bring unhappiness. Indeed, it is a lesson to
all of us," she added.

Respect was an instinct with Gifford, and he did not stop to think that
it was a lesson by which Miss Deborah would have no opportunity to
profit.

But he was not listening closely to the chatter of the little ladies; he
was thinking of Lois's indifference. "She even looked bored, once," he
thought; "but that does not necessarily mean that she cares for Forsythe.
I will trust her. She may never love me, but she will never care for
him."

CHAPTER XIV.

The feeling in Lockhaven about Helen Ward's unbelief was not confined to
Elder Dean; for every one who knew Mrs. Davis knew what the preacher's
wife thought of Tom's salvation, and judged her accordingly. As for the
widow herself, the hope Helen had given her quite died out under the
fostering care of Elder Dean. She grew more bitter than ever, and refused
even to speak on the subject.

"No, ma'am," she said wearily, when Helen went to see her after the
funeral,--"no, ma'am, 'tain't no use to talk. Elder Dean's been here, and
I know there ain't no good hopin'. Even the preacher don't say there's
any good hopin'. What you said was a comfort, ma'am, but 'twasn't true.
'Twasn't religion. It's in the Bible that there's a hell, and there's no
use sayin' there isn't; sayin' there isn't won't keep us from it, Elder
Dean says, and I guess he's about right. I'm sure I'm much obliged to
you, ma'am; but I'm a Christian woman myself, and I can't deny religion."

There was no use arguing; custom and a smattering of logic settled her
convictions, and no reasoning could move her dreary hopelessness.

Helen told John of it, her head resting on his breast, and comforted by
his mere presence. "I know you believe in hell," she ended, "but, oh,
John, it is so horrible!"

He stroked her hair softly. "I am afraid, dearest," he said, "Mrs. Davis
is right. I am afraid there is no possibility of hope. The soul that
sinneth, it shall die, and shall not the Judge of all the earth do
right?"

Helen sprang to her feet. "Oh," she cried passionately,--"that is just
it,--He does do right! Why, if I thought God capable of sending Tom to
hell, I should hate Him." John tried to speak, but she interrupted him.
"We will never talk of this again, never! Believe what you will,
dearest,--it does not matter,--but don't speak of it to me, if you
love me. I canno