donia,--quite
a number of them," he rejoined. "Not one of them was present."

It was the clear-sighted inner Ardea that smiled. There was little in
the stately service and luxurious appointments of the country colony's
church to attract the working-men, and much to repel them. She wondered
that Mr. Morelock, young as he was, did not understand this.

"The mission of St. John's is hardly to the working people of Gordonia,
is it?" she said, more in exculpation than in criticism.

"Oh, my dear young lady! the church knows no class distinctions!"
protested the zealous one warmly. "Her call is to rich and poor, gentle
and simple, young and old alike; and it is imperative. I must make a
round of visitation among these miners at the very first opportunity."

Ardea bent low to the buffet of a stronger blast and fought for a moment
with her clinging skirts. When she had breath to say it, she said: "Will
you really do that? Then let me tell you how. Come out here some
week-day in your roughest clothes, and make your round among the men
while they are at work in the mine. They will listen to you then."

"Bless me! what an idea!" he gasped.

"It is not original with me," was the gentle reply. "You will remember
that the example was set a good many hundred years ago among the
fishermen of Galilee. And, after all, Mr. Morelock, it is the only way.
You can not reach down to a living soul on this earth--that is worth
saving."

It had begun to rain in spiteful little dashes and squalls, and the
clergyman was turning up the collar of his overcoat and buttoning it
about his throat. Moreover, the wind had risen to half a gale, and
talking was difficult when it was not wholly impossible. But when they
reached the Deer Trace gates and the shelter of the driveway evergreens,
he had a defensive word ready.

"I can't fully agree with you, you know, Miss Ardea," he said. "Of
course, we must not reach down in the Pharisaical sense. But neither
must we lower the dignity of the sacred calling."

Her smile was neither disloyal nor cynical; it was merely pitying. She
was thinking in her heart of hearts how much this zealous young apostle
had yet to learn.

"Do you call it undignified to be a man among men?" she asked; adding
quickly: "But I know you don't. And what other way is open to the true
brother-helper?"

"There is the church and its ministrations," he began, but she broke in.

"To get the drowning man ashore you have first to go