Mr. Loretz had turned away from the piazza rail and picked up his hat.
His wife's question arrested him. "I--I thought I would speak with
Brother Wenck," said he, somewhat confused by the question, and looking
almost as if his sole purpose had been to go beyond the sound of his
wife's remonstrating voice.

"Husband, about this?"

"Yes, Anna."

"Don't go. What will he think?"

"Nobody knows about it yet, except Wenck, unless he spoke to Brother
Thorn."

"Oh, Frederick, what are you thinking?"

"I am thinking"--he paused and looked fixedly at his wife--"I am
thinking that I have been beside myself, Anna--crazy, out and out, and
this thing can't stand."

"Husband, it was our wish to learn the will of God concerning this
marriage, and we have learned it. The Lord----"

"I will go back to the factory," said Mr. Loretz, turning quickly away
from his wife. "I must see if everything is right there before it gets
darker." He had caught sight of the tall figure of a woman at the gate
when he snatched up his hat so suddenly and interrupted his wife. Then
he turned to her again: "Is Elise within?"

"No, husband: she went to the garden for twigs this afternoon."

"She had not heard?"

"No. It is Sister Benigna that is coming. Must you go back?" She poured
another glass of water for her husband, and walked down the steps with
him; and coming so, out from the shade into the sunlight, Sister Benigna
was startled by their faces as though she had seen two ghosts.

Two hours later, Mr. Loretz again turned his steps homeward, and Mr.
Wenck, the minister, walked with him as far as the gate. They had met
accidentally upon the sidewalk, and Mr. Loretz must of necessity make
some allusion to the letter he had received from the minister that day
acquainting him with the allotment which had made of him so hopeless a
mourner. The good man hesitated a moment before making response: then
he took both the hands of Loretz in his, and said in a deep, tender
voice, "Brother, the wound smarts."

"I cannot bear it!" cried Loretz. "It is all my doing, and I must have
been crazy."

"When in devout faith you sought to know God's will concerning your dear
child?"

"I cannot talk about it," was the impatient response. "And you cannot
understand it," he continued, turning quickly upon his companion. "You
have never had a daughter, and you don't understand Albert Spener."

"I think," said the minister patiently--"I think I know him well eno