omen to attend to all that. I want to talk to you, Miss
Orr."

His tone was authoritative.

She turned her head and looked at him.

"To talk to me?" she echoed.

"Yes; come back--for just a minute. I know what you're thinking: that
it's my duty to be talking to parishioners. Well, I've been doing
that all the evening. I think I'm entitled to a moment of relaxation;
don't you?"

"I'm a parishioner," she reminded him.

"So you are," he agreed joyously. "And I haven't had a word with you
this evening, so far; so you see it's my duty to talk to you; and
it's your duty to listen."

"Well?" she murmured.

Her face upturned to his in the moonlight wore the austere loveliness
of a saint's.

[Illustration: Her face upturned to his in the moonlight, wore the
austere loveliness of a saint's.]

"I wish you'd tell me something," he said, his fine dark eyes taking
in every detail of delicate tint and outline. "Do you know it all
seems very strange and unusual to me--your coming to Brookville the
way you did, and doing so much to--to make the people here happy."

She drew a deep, sighing breath.

"I'm afraid it isn't going to be easy," she said slowly. "I thought
it would be; but--"

"Then you came with that intention," he inferred quickly. "You meant
to do it from the beginning. But just what was the beginning? What
ever attracted your attention to this forlorn little place?"

She was silent for a moment, her eyes downcast. Then she smiled.

"I might ask you the same question," she said at last. "Why did you
come to Brookville, Mr. Elliot?"

He made an impatient gesture.

"Oh, that is easily explained. I had a call to Brookville."

"So did I," she murmured. "Yes; I think that was the reason--if there
must be a reason."

"There is always a reason for everything," he urged. "But you didn't
understand me. Do you know I couldn't say this to another soul in
Brookville; but I'm going to tell you: I wanted to live and work in a
big city, and I tried to find a church--"

"Yes; I know," she said, unexpectedly. "One can't always go where one
wishes to go, just at first. Things turn out that way, sometimes."

"They seemed to want me here in Brookville," he said, with some
bitterness. "It was a last resort, for me. I might have taken a
position in a school; but I couldn't bring myself to that. I'd
dreamed of preaching--to big audiences."

She smiled at him, with a gentle sidewise motion of the head.

"God lets us