wouldn't fee the organ boy as well as the sexton. "He
orto," Bill soliloquized, "for I've about blowed my gizzard out
sometimes, when she and Mrs. Cameron sings the 'Te Deum.'"

Meanwhile Mark Ray, who had driven first to the farmhouse in quest of
Helen, entered the church, glancing in upon the festooned walls, and
then as he heard a sound in the loft, stealing noiselessly up the stairs
to where Helen sat in the dim light, reading again the precious letter
withheld from her so long. She had moved her stool near to the window,
and her back was toward the door, so that she neither saw nor heard, nor
suspected anything, until Mark, bending over her so as to see what she
had in her hand, as well as the tear she had dropped upon it, clasped
both his arms about her neck, and drawing her face over back, kissed her
fondly, calling her his darling, and saying to her as she tried to
struggle from him:

"I know I have a right to call you darling by that tear on my letter and
the look upon your face. Dear Helen, we have found each other at last."

It was so unexpected that Helen could not speak, but she let her head
rest on his bosom, where he had laid it, and her hot, trembling hand
crept into his, so that he was answered, and for a moment he only kissed
and caressed the fair girl he knew now was his own. They could not talk
together there very long, for Helen must go home; but he made good use
of the time he had, telling her many things, and then asking her a
question which made her start away from him as she replied: "No, no, oh!
no, not to-night--not so soon as that!"

"And why not, Helen?" he asked, with the manner of one who is not to be
denied. "Why not to-night, so there need be no more misunderstanding?
I'd rather leave you as my wife than my betrothed. Mother will like it
better. I hinted it to her and she said there was room for you in her
love. It will make me a better man, a better soldier, if I can say 'my
wife,' as other soldiers do. You don't know what a charm there is in
that word, Helen--keeping a man from sin, and if I should die I would
rather you should bear my name and share in my fortune. Will you, Helen,
when the ceremonies are closed, will you go up to that altar and pledge
your vows to me? I cannot wait till to-morrow; my leave of absence
expired to-day. I must go back to-night, but you must first be mine."

Helen was shaking as with a chill, but she made him no reply, and
wrapping her cloak and furs a