rs of men.

"Has the woman repented?" he asked.

"I fear not. In fact--no; she has not."

At once the battle-light began to shine in Parson Lute's green eyes.
"I see," he snapped.

"Rather difficult case, I fear," said Parson Stump, despondently.
"She--well, she--she isn't quite right. Poor creature! Do you
understand? A simple person. Not idiotic, you know. Not born that
way, of course. Oh no! born with all her senses _quite_ intact. She
was beautiful as a maid--sweet-natured, lovely in person, very
modest and pious--very merry, too, and clever. But before the child
came she--she--she began to wait. Do you understand? To wait--to wait
for the return of--of some one. She said--I remember that she
said--that he would come. She was really quite sure of it. And she
waited--and waited. A promise, no doubt; and she had faith in it. For
a long time she had faith in it. Rather pitiful, I think. I used to see
her about a good deal. She was always waiting. I would meet her on
the heads, in all weathers, keeping watch for schooners. The clerk of a
trading-schooner, no doubt; but nobody knows. Waiting--waiting--always
waiting! Poor creature! The man didn't come back, of course; and then
she got--well--flighty. Got flighty--quite flighty. The man didn't come
back, of course, you know; and she had waited--and waited--so long, so
very long. Really, a very difficult case, brother! Something snapped
and broken--something missing--something gone, you know. Poor creature!
She--she--well, she waited too long. Couldn't _stand_ it, you see. It
seems she loved the man--and trusted him--and, well, just loved him, you
know, in the way women will. And now she's flighty--_quite_ flighty. A
difficult case, I fear, and--"

"I see," Parson Lute interrupted. "An interesting case. Very sad, too.
And you've not been able to convict her of her sin?"

Parson Stump shook his head.

"No impression whatever?"

"No, brother."

"How," Parson Lute demanded, with a start, "does she--ah--subsist?"

"She fishes, brother, in quiet weather, and she is helped, though it
is not generally known, by a picturesque old character of the place--a
man not of the faith, a drunkard, I fear, but kind-hearted and
generous to the needy."

"The woman ever converted before?"

"Twice, brother," Parson Stump answered; "but not now in a state
of grace. She is quite obstinate," he added, "and she has, I
fear, peculiar views--_very_ peculiar, I fear--on repentance. In