o put into words my appreciation of your work there. In two years
you have infused more life and earnestness into that sleepy parish than
I thought possible. You've waked them up, put energy into them, and got
it out of them. You've done wonders. It's right you should know that
people think this of you, and that your work is valued."

"I am glad," Norman North said, and the restraint of the words carried
more than a speech.

Mr. Litterny went on: "But there's such a thing as overdoing, young man,
and you're shaving the edge of it. You're looking ill--poor color--thin
as a rail. You need a rest."

"I think I'll go to Bermuda. My senior warden was there last year, and
he says it's a wonderful little place--full of flowers and tennis and
sailing, and blue sea and nice people." He stood up suddenly and
broadened his broad shoulders. "I love the south," he said. "And I love
out-of-doors and using my muscles. It's good to think of whole days
with no responsibility, and with exercise till my arms and legs ache. I
get little exercise, and I miss it. I was on the track team at Yale, you
see, and rather strong at tennis."

Mr. Litterny smiled, and his smile was full of sympathy. "We try to make
a stained-glass saint out of you," he said, "and all the time you're a
human youngster with a human desire for a good time. A mere lad," he
added, reflectively, and went on: "Go down to Bermuda with a light
heart, my boy, and enjoy yourself,--it will do your church as much good
as you. Play tennis and sail--fall in love if you find the right
girl,--nothing makes a man over like that." North was putting out his
hand. "And remember," Litterny added, "to keep an eye out for my thief.
You're retained as assistant detective in the case."

* * * * *

On a bright, windy morning a steamship wound its careful way through the
twisted water-road of Hamilton Harbor, Bermuda. Up from cabins mid
corners poured figures unknown to the decks during the passage, and
haggard faces brightened under the balmy breeze, and tired eyes smiled
at the dark hills and snowy sands of the sliding shore. In a sheltered
corner of the deck a woman lay back in a chair and drew in breaths of
soft air, and a tall girl watched her.

"You feel better already, don't you?" she demanded, and Mrs. Newbold put
her hand into her daughter's.

"It is Paradise," she said. "I am going to get well."

In an hour the landing had been made, the custom