ned skill."

The minister was a man of moderate abilities and somewhat ungraceful
appearance. He was tall, sandy-haired, with a half-anxious
countenance, as though the cares of the shining new edifice and of the
flock rather troubled him. He preached with no striking originality,
but with evident earnestness, mingled with abortive efforts at
rhetoric. He spoke good words for Christ, extolling His power to save
sinners; and the simple statements, however trite they may have sounded
to others, were music in the eager ears of those who had just come to
know Him.

At the close of the meeting he made his way to the door to shake hands
with the departing hearers, and Hubert gave him his with a cordial
grasp, and with thanks for his "excellent sermon." The minister's face
brightened and he looked after his appreciative visitors with hope that
they might come again.

CHAPTER IX

"TWO OF ME"

Affairs moved quietly in the Gray household as the week advanced. Mr.
Frothingham called one evening and made himself very entertaining to
the two ladies. Mrs. Gray laughed gently at his jokes, for he was a
tireless jester (sometimes a tiresome one), and he enjoyed seeing the
serious light in Winifred's eyes change to mirth under his curious
speeches.

The two sang together, and after that she played dreamy snatches from
Beethoven while he leaned back in an easy chair and listened. What a
harmonious and pleasant life stretched before the two together! Mrs.
Gray lived over again through her daughter's heart days when Robert
Gray and she were learning that life was sweetest when they were
together, and she sighed in a pensive mingling of emotions as she
mentally gave Winifred up to the reign of the ancient conqueror. She
fell asleep over the fleecy shawl she was knitting as her daughter
played, and was not aroused when Mr. Frothingham rose to go. Winifred
and he exchanged smiling glances as they saw her closed eyes, and spoke
in low tones together. Mr. Frothingham lingered just a perceptible
moment over Winifred's hand in parting, and looked down into her face
with an unspoken question she had never read before so clearly. Her
eyes fell, and the flush in her fair face deepened into lovelier red.

"Good night," each said softly, and he went away.

Winifred drank in the luxury of her own sweet thoughts until his step
ceased to sound, and then went over to her mother's chair. She stooped
and kissed her forehead. Mr