e she went
to Deacon Croaker.

'I hear you are behindhand with your wool,' she said, in her
straightforward way. 'I will spin it for you if you like, and, Deacon,
may I ask you as a favour to let me have the money in advance?'

The deacon looked at her curiously.

'Hard up, air ye, Pawliney? Well, well, don't colour up so, we all hev
our scarce times. I ain't partial to payin' forehanded, but you was
awful kind to Mis' Croaker when her rheumatiz was bad on her, an' I
ain't one ter forgit a favour. Cum in, Pawliney, while I git the money.
Mis' Croaker will be rale pleased; she thinks you're the best spinner in
the valley.'

'No, thank you, I will wait out here.'

The old man hobbled into the house, and she stood waiting, clothed in
her sorrow and shame.

'So Lemuel's ben an' tuk French leave?' he said, as he handed her the
money. 'Well, well, I allers did say that boy'd be a heart break tew ye,
Pawliney. Well, what's gone's forgot. Don't fret over him, Pawliney, he
was a bad lot, a bad lot. Ye'er well rid of him, my dear.'

'I never shall forget him,' Pauline said gravely, 'and he can't get away
from God, Deacon Croaker.'

She counted the bills as she hurried along. It would just make enough,
with the butter money. That was all she had for clothes for herself and
Polly--but Polly had enough for a while, and she could go without.

In the evenings, long after the others were in bed, she paced up and
down the kitchen, spinning Deacon Croaker's wool into smooth, even
threads, but her heart ached as she prayed for her boy, and often, when
in the still watches of the night Polly kept her vigils with pain, she
heard her cry softly:--

'Lemuel, Lemuel, oh! how could you, how could you do it?'

Her uncle's family were living abroad now, and it was from Paris that
Belle wrote, announcing her engagement to Reginald Gordon.

'Just imagine, Paul,' the letter went on, 'I, of all possible people, a
missionary's wife! But the fact of the matter is, my precious saint,
your splendid, consecrated life made me tingle with shame to my finger
tips when I thought of my aimless existence, and when I remembered how
you took up your cross and followed your Master to Sleepy Hollow, there
seemed to be no reason why I should not follow Him to Africa. If it will
comfort you, I want you to know that you have been the guiding star
which has led me out of the sloth of my selfishness into active work
for the King.'

The years slipped by