ce.
Mechanically, they turned from the chancel and slowly made the round of
the aisles. A short silence succeeded his professional ardor. His
current of thought, in its reversion to home matters, had reminded him
afresh of what was perpetually this morning uppermost in his
consciousness--his coming departure.

"Now," he said, abruptly, "is the most favorable opportunity I shall
have, Mrs. Babcock, to tell you how much I am your debtor. I shan't
despair of our meeting again, for the world is small, and good friends
are sure to meet sooner or later. But the past is secure to me at any
rate. If this church is in some measure what I have dreamed and wished
it to be, if my work with all its faults is a satisfaction to myself, I
wish you to know how much you have contributed to make it what it is."

The words were as a melody in Selma's ears, and she listened greedily.
Littleton paused, as one seriously moved will pause before giving the
details of an important announcement. She, thinking he had finished,
interjected with a touch of modesty, "I'm so glad. But my suggestions
and criticisms have not been what I meant them to be. It was all new to
me, you know."

"Oh, yes. It hasn't been so much what you have said in words which has
helped me, though that has been always intelligent and uplifting. I did
not look for technical knowledge. You do not possess that, of course.
There are women in New York who would be able to confuse you with their
familiarity with these things. And yet it is by way of contrast with
those very women--fine women, too, in their way--that you have been my
good angel. There is no harm in saying that. I should be an ingrate,
surely, if I would not let you know that your sane, simple outlook upon
life, your independent vision, has kept my brain clear and my soul free.
I am a better artist and a better man for the experience. Good-by, and
may all happiness attend you. If once in a while you should find time to
write to a struggling architect named Littleton, he will be charmed to
do your bidding--to send you books and to place his professional
knowledge at your service. Good-by."

He held out his hand with frank effusion. He was obviously happy at
having given utterance to his sense of obligation. Selma was tingling
from head to foot and a womanly blush was on her cheek, though the
serious seraph spoke in her words and eyes. She felt moved to a wave of
unreserved speech.

"What you have said is very in