s into his face by talking of small household happenings, and
how she had missed him during his two weeks' absence, and what plans she
had for the next week. But no smile touched his white lips, or banished
the absent look in his eyes. After tea, during which his silence had not
been broken, he turned to go into his study.

"Oh, you are not going to work to-night?" Helen cried. "Don't leave me
alone again!"

He looked at her with sudden wistfulness. "I--I must," he said, his voice
so changed it gave her a shock of pain. "I must work on my sermon."

"I thought you had written it," she said; "and you are so tired--do wait
until to-morrow."

"I am not going to use the sermon I prepared," he answered. "I have
decided to preach more directly on foreign missions. You know I exchange
with Mr. Grier, of Chester, on the Sabbath; and he will preach to our
church on the attitude of Assembly towards missions. I had intended to
give a more general sermon to his people, but--I have decided otherwise."

Helen was surprised at so long an explanation; John's sermons were
generally ignored by both, but for different reasons. She followed him
into the study, and when she had lighted his lamp he kissed her, saying
softly, "May God bless you, Helen," and then he shut her gently from the
room.

"Don't lock the door, John," she had said. "I won't come in, but don't
lock it." Her lip almost trembled as she spoke.

"No,--no," he said tenderly. "Oh, Helen, I have made you suffer!"

She was quick to protect him. "No, I was only lonely; but you won't lock
it?"

He did not, but poor Helen wandered forlornly about the darkened house,
an indefinable dread chasing away the relief which had come when her
husband spoke of spiritual trouble; she was glad, for the mere humanness
of it, to hear Thaddeus and Alfaretta talking in the kitchen.

The next day, and the next, dragged slowly by. When John was not at his
writing-table, he was making those pastoral calls which took so much time
and strength, and which Helen always felt were unnecessary. Once, seeing
her standing leaning her forehead against the window and looking out
sadly into the rainy garden, he came up to her and took her in his arms,
holding her silently to his heart. That cheered and lightened her, and
somehow, when Sunday morning dawned, full of the freshness of the past
rain and the present wind and sunshine, she felt the gloom of the last
three days lifting a little. True, there