rural neighbours. These came out last, to linger and
chat while the big double buggies were whirled into place with a
scraping sound and the families were perched aboard. Duncan and
Andrew, as was their custom, waited for a private word with the
minister. The former watched Donald hand his mother into the smart
single buggy and drive away through the gate. He did not even miss the
glance of Donald's eyes towards John Hamilton's daughters, passing up
the street like a gay posy of flowers. Duncan Polite's heart was ever
young and he smiled sympathetically as he caught the answering glance
from a pair of bright eyes beneath a big white hat.

The minister came slowly down the aisle, shaking hands with all. He
had only time for his midday meal and then he was away again to his
other charge, a church some nine miles distant on one of the township
roads colloquially styled the Tenth. But Mr. Cameron never hurried
away without a word with his two old friends.

"Ye're no lookin' well the day, sir," said Andrew Johnstone anxiously.
"The work's ower hard on ye in the hot weather; ye're needin' a bit
rest."

"Oh, I will be getting a rest, Andrew," he answered, smiling, "a good
long rest, and it will be soon."

Duncan Polite looked up with a sudden flash of apprehension in his
eyes, but his friend returned the glance with a reassuring smile.

"And so Donald is going to college," he said. "Ah, that's fine,
Duncan, that's fine! We'll make a minister of him yet, and a fine one
he'll be, I promise. You'll live to hear him preach here when I'm
gone."

Duncan put up his hand in protest.

"Tut, tut, sir," said the elder sharply, as was his way when he was
moved, "ye'll hear him yersel' some day if he comes till it, never
fear."

The minister shook his head. "No, Andrew, I will not hear the lad, but
it is a great comfort to me to see Donald McDonald's grandson taking up
the work he prayed for, and I hope the Father will spare you both a
long time. But as for me----" He paused. The church was empty but
for the three old men; the subdued murmur of the people's voices came
through the open windows; a smile illuminated the old minister's
saintly face. "As for me, it will not be long; 'Tarry thou here, for
the Lord hath sent me to Jordan.'"

He turned and, still smiling, walked up the aisle and into the vestry.
The two went out into the sunlight.

"Surely he wouldna' mean----" suggested Andrew Johnstone, afraid to say