Dean said he wished "our own people could have been benefited
by it."

"I thought the heathen were expected to be benefited by such sermons,"
Gifford said, twisting a cigarette between his fingers, as he leaned over
the half-door of the elder's shop, lazily watching a long white shaving
curl up under his plane. "I thought the object was a large contribution."

The elder looked up solemnly, and opened his lips with vast deliberation.
"Lawyer Woodhouse," he said, "that's your mistake. They're fer the
purpose of instructing us that the heathen is damned, so that we will
rejoice in our own salvation, and make haste to accept it if we are
unconverted."

He looked hard at the young man as he spoke, for every one knew Lawyer
Woodhouse did not go regularly to church, and so, presumably, was not a
Christian.

Then Mr. Dean, while he pulled the shavings out of his plane, and threw
them on the fragrant heap at his feet, said one or two things which made
Gifford stop lounging and forget his cigarette while he listened with a
grave face. "Unbelief in the church," "the example for our youth," "the
heresy of the preacher's wife."

This was not the first time Gifford had heard such comments, but there
was a threat in Mr. Dean's voice, though he did not put it into words,
which made the young man carry a growing anxiety about Helen away with
him. He could not forget it, even in the rejoicings of his home-coming,
and he gave guarded answers about her which were unlike his usual
frankness.

Lois noticed it, and wondered a little, but was perhaps more annoyed than
troubled by it.

The shyness of her welcome Gifford quite misunderstood.

"After all," he thought, "what was the use of coming? Whatever Forsythe's
chances are, there is one thing sure,--she does not care for me. She used
to have that old friendly way, at least; but even that is gone, now. I
might have known it. I was a fool to run into the fire again. Thank
Heaven, that cad isn't here. When he comes, I'll go!"

And so he wandered forlornly about, his hands in his pockets, and a
disconsolate look on his face which greatly distressed his aunts.
Somehow, too, the big fellow's presence for any length of time
embarrassed them. They had been so long without a man in the house, they
realized suddenly that he took up a great deal of room, and that their
small subjects of conversation could not interest him.

"Perhaps," said Miss Ruth shrewdly, "he has found some nice girl i