he missionary!" to tell
Margaret who he was. His face told her. His prayer thrilled her, and his
strong, young, true voice made her sure that here was a man of God in
truth.

When the prayer was over and Margaret stood once more shyly facing her
audience, she could scarcely keep the tremble out of her voice:

"Oh," said she, casting aside ceremony, "if I had known the missionary
was here I should not have dared to try and lead this meeting to-day.
Won't you please come up here and talk to us for a little while now, Mr.
Brownleigh?"

At once he came forward eagerly, as if each opportunity were a pleasure.
"Why, surely, I want to speak a word to you, just to say how glad I am
to see you all, and to experience what a wonderful teacher you have
found since I went away; but I wouldn't have missed this meeting to-day
for all the sermons I ever wrote or preached. You don't need any more
sermon than the remarkable story you've just been listening to, and I've
only one word to add; and that is, that I've found since I went away
that Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God, is just the same Jesus
to me to-day that He was the last time I spoke to you. He is just as
ready to forgive your sin, to comfort you in sorrow, to help you in
temptation, to raise your body in the resurrection, and to take you home
to a mansion in His Father's house as He was the day He hung upon the
cross to save your soul from death. I've found I can rest just as
securely upon the Bible as the word of God as when I first tested its
promises. Heaven and earth may pass away, but His word shall _never_
pass away."

"_Go to it!_" said Jasper Kemp under his breath in the tone some men say
"Amen!" and his brows were drawn as if he were watching a battle.
Margaret couldn't help wondering if he were thinking of the Rev.
Frederick West just then.

When the service was over the missionary brought his wife forward to
Margaret, and they loved each other at once. Just another sweet girl
like Margaret. She was lovely, with a delicacy of feature that betokened
the high-born and high-bred, but dressed in a dainty khaki riding
costume, if that uncompromising fabric could ever be called dainty.
Margaret, remembering it afterward, wondered what it had been that gave
it that unique individuality, and decided it was perhaps a combination
of cut and finish and little dainty accessories. A bit of creamy lace at
the throat of the rolling collar, a touch of golden-brown ve