ngent sweetness of
cherry-blossoms. They had gone more than half-way home when they drew
rein to water their horses, under a whispering pine by the roadside. The
trough, overflowing with sparkling water, was green with moss and lichen,
and was so old and soft that a bunch of ferns had found a home on its
side. The horses thrust their noses down into it, blowing and sputtering
with sheer delight in the coolness. John made a cup of a big beech leaf,
and filled it for his wife. As he handed it to her, they heard steps, and
in a moment more Mr. Grier came around the curve of the road. His horse,
too, was thirsty, and he let the reins fall on its neck while he greeted
them both with formal and ministerial dignity, saying he "wished they
might have tarried until he came home, and perhaps he could have
persuaded them to stay the night."

The horses pounded and splashed in the pools about their feet, and were
impatient to be off, but Mr. Grier delayed. He spoke of church matters,
and General Assembly, and their respective congregations; and then, with
a little hesitation, he said:--

"I had almost hoped, Mrs. Ward, that you would have been in Brother
Ward's church to-day, even though Mrs. Grier had much pleasure in seeing
you under our roof. I had you in my mind in the preparation of my
sermon."

Mr. Grier was a tall, thin man, with watery blue eyes, and a sparse sandy
beard growing like a fringe under his chin from ear to ear. He moved his
jaws nervously as he waited for her answer, and plucked at his beard with
long, lean fingers.

Helen smiled. "Did you think I should be a large contributor to foreign
missions, Mr. Grier?"

"No, ma'am," he answered solemnly, "I was not thinking of any benefit to
the heathen. I had somewhat to say which I felt might be for the good of
your own soul."

Helen flushed, and flung her head back with a haughty look. "Ah,--you are
very good, I'm sure," she said, "but"--

Mr. Grier interrupted her, wagging his head up and down upon his breast:
"Brother Ward will forgive me for saying so, ma'am, but I had your
welfare at heart. Brother Ward, you have my prayers for your dear wife."

"I--I thank you," John said, "but you must not feel that my wife is far
from the Lord. Have you been told that the truth is not clear to her
eyes? Yet it will be!"

"I hope so,--I hope so," responded Mr. Grier, but with very little hope
in his voice; and then, shaking the reins, he jogged on down the shadowy
ro