when he had seen what he even dared to call his 'vision' of the church.

So he said, "You and mother drive on home; I'll walk up with Jeannette."

For lovers who had just met after a year's separation these two were
strangely subdued. They had everything to say to each other, but this
sudden falling of the shadow of suffering on their meeting checked the
words on their lips.

"Will he get better?" J.W. asked Jeannette.

"They fear not," she answered. "The doctors say he may live for several
years, but he will never preach again. He just sits there; he's been so
anxious to see you. You must go to-day."

"Of course. And what shall I say about the wedding? If he can't leave
his room----"

Jeannette interrupted him: "If he can't leave his room, it will make no
difference. Church wedding or home wedding I should have chosen, as I
have told you; but you and I, John Wesley, are going to be married by
Walter Drury, wherever he is, if he's alive on our wedding day."

"Why, yes," said J.W., with a little break in his voice, "it wouldn't
seem right any other way. We can have the dinner, or breakfast or
whatever it is, just the same, but we'll be married in his room. I'm
glad you feel that way about it too; though it's just like you."

And it was so. J.W. went up to the study as soon as he could rid himself
of the dust of the day's travel, more eager to show Walter Drury he
loved him than to tell his story or even to arrange for the wedding.

As to that ceremony, the plans had long ago been understood; nothing
more was needed than to tell Walter Drury his study afforded a better
background and setting for this particular wedding than a cathedral
could provide.

J.W. was prepared for a great change in Pastor Drury, but he noticed no
such signs of breakdown as he had expected to see. He did not know that
the beloved pastor was keyed up for this meeting. He could not guess
that the beaming eye, the old radiant smile, the touch of color in a
face usually pale, were on special if unconscious display because the
pastor's heart was thanking God that he had been permitted to welcome
home his son in the gospel.

Those had been dreary days, in the hospital, despite the ceaseless
ministries of nurses and doctors and friends from Delafield. This
hospital was a place of noble service, one of many such places which
have arisen in the Methodism of the last forty years. It was a hospital
through and through--the last word in equipmen