Cautiously he
glanced around, almost expecting to see the tale of guilt and sorrow
legibly imprinted upon some culprit's face. But no one seemed at all
disturbed, save one old lady who glared back at him an unmistakable
"Thou art the man!" The congregation sat, serenely, soberly attentive,
testifying their entire agreement with the speaker by an occasional sigh
or nod. The more fiery the preacher's denunciations, the more complacent
his hearers. In astonishment Willits realised that, if appearances go
for anything, no one in Knox Presbyterian Church had ever borne false
witness against anybody!

The collecting of the offering was somewhat of an anti-climax, as was
also the anthem by the choir, the latter consisting of a complicated
arrangement of the question, "If a man die shall he live again?"
reiterated singly by all parts in succession, by duets and quartets and
finally by the whole choir, without so much as a shadow of an answer
appearing anywhere.

Willits gave a long sigh as they stepped into the summer day again. It
had not been uninteresting, but he was quite ready for lunch. The
doctor, on the contrary, seemed unaccountably to linger. He even paused
to talk to a fat lady in mauve velvet who had mauve cheeks to match.

"So glad to see you in church, Doctor! Young men, you know, are inclined
to be young men! And these nice days--very tempting, I'm sure! Is your
friend a stranger?"

Callandar gravely introduced Willits, who became immediately convinced
that this mauve lady was the most unpleasant person he had ever seen and
doubtless the very person to whom the minister had spoken in his sermon.

Why had Callandar let him in for this? Why was he waiting around for
anyway? There he was, shaking hands with some one else--this time it was
the girl who had laughed.

"May I present my friend, Professor Willits, Miss Coombe?"

The girl extended a graceful hand and for an instant the professor was
permitted a look into eyes which caused him to set his firm lips
somewhat grimly.

"And I know, Willits, you will be delighted to meet our pastor, Mr.
Macnair."

A spark began to glow in the professor's eye, but Callandar's face was
guileless. The minister shook hands with professional heartiness, but
his gaze, Willits thought, was wandering. He began to feel interested.

"Very fine day," he remarked imperturbably.

"Lovely, lovely," agreed the minister, still heartily. The mauve lady
was waiting for the pastoral