of the pew. He
gave her a long, yearning look, but did not speak. Then he turned, and
walked slowly up the aisle, with reverently bent head.

At the first hymn the congregation turned and faced the choir. Helen,
with the shadows of the leaves playing across her hymn-book, leaned
against the high back of the pew behind her, and sang in a strong, sweet
voice, rejoicing in the rolling old tune of "Greenland's icy mountains."
She could see the distant line of the hills, and now and then between the
branches of the trees would come the flash and ripple of the brown river;
and through the open door, which made a frame for the leaves and sky, she
caught sight of the row of horses pounding and switching under the
chestnuts, and those backsliders outside, who found it necessary to "see
to the beasts" rather than attend their religious privileges. But there
were not very many of these, for Mr. Ward's fame as a preacher had spread
through all the villages near Lockhaven.

Helen, watching John while he read the chapter from the Bible, thought
anxiously how tired and worn his face looked, and so thinking, and
looking out into the dancing leaves, the short prayer, and the long
prayer, and the hymn before the sermon passed, and she scarcely heard
them. Then came the rustle of preparation for listening. The men shuffled
about in their seats, and crossed their legs; the women settled their
bonnet-strings, and gave the little children a peppermint drop, and the
larger children a hymn-book to read. There were the usual rustling and
whispering in the choir, and the creaking footsteps of the one or two who
entered shamefacedly, as though they would explain that the horses had
detained them. Then the church was very still.

John Ward rose, and spread his manuscript out upon the velvet cushion of
the white pulpit.

"You will find my text," he said, "in the sixth chapter of Romans, the
twenty-first verse: 'The end of those things is death.'"

It had been announced that his sermon was to be upon foreign missions,
and the people waited patiently while the preacher briefly told them what
had been accomplished by the Presbyterian Church during the last year,
and, describing its methods of work, showed what it proposed to do in the
future.

"That's just a-tunin' up,--he'll set the heathen dancin' pretty soon; you
see!" some one whispered behind Helen; and then there was a giggle and
"hush-sh," as Mr. Ward began to say that foreign missions w