pew and looked quite uncomfortable as the
relentless voice continued, "I sh'd hate to be a bishop and have such
things blamed onto me; but if the bishop hadn't _insisted_ on sending
Papa to that Pendennis Church when they had asked for someone else,
maybe he might be living with his family yet, instead of with the
angels."

"Who was your Papa?" the gruff voice gently asked.

"Peter Greenfield."

"Oh!"

"Did you know him?"

"Yes. Yes, indeed. He was one of my--I am the--I knew him well. He was a
good preacher and a splendid man. The Church suffered a great loss in
his death."

"His family suffered a worser one, 'cause Mamma got sick and then we had
two angels behind the Gates, and no one here to tell us what to do, and
Gail not eighteen."

"Tell me about it."

The missionary meeting had long since dissolved into several committee
meetings, and the hum of voices in the great auditorium drowned the
conversation in the dim recess at the rear of the room; but Peace had
entirely forgotten her surroundings, and without restraint she poured
out the simple story of her father's sacrifices in her concise, forceful
way, laying bare family secrets and relating with telling effect the
pathetic struggle of the six sisters left alone to face the battle with
the world.

"And then we came to live with Grandpa and Grandma Campbell," she
finished. "They are just like truly relations to us, but they can never
make up for our own father and mother, any more than we can really take
the place of their own little girls which died. Why, has the Conference
quit? Everybody's bustling all around the room now. I wonder where
Grandma went? Is it time to go home?"

"In a moment or two," replied the man, thoughtfully stroking his
smoothly-shaven chin. "Some of the committees are evidently still in
session."

"And I never looked at Allee's Album all the while I was here! I had to
come, else Grandma couldn't, 'cause the girls are all in school 'xcept
Hope, and she has gone to see the _iniquities_ at the Library. So I
brought this along to keep myself awake with, 'cause I thought it would
likely be a stupid, sleepy meeting today. They always are when a lot of
fat old ladies get to talking _ecstatics_,"--she meant statistics--"but
I've had a very nice time listening and watching those funny preachers;
and I'm glad you came along to talk to me--"

"Bishop Malthouse!" someone from the rostrum shouted.

The dignified gentleman rose hastil