eavoured to dissuade her from
this too human reaction.

"God has chosen to try me for a purpose, Aunt Bell," he said very
simply. "I ought to be proud of it--eager for any test--and I am. True,
in these last years I had looked upon grandfather's fortune as mine--not
only by implied promise, but by all standards of right--even of
integrity. For surely a man could not more nearly forfeit his own
rights, in every moral aspect, than poor Bernal has--though I meant
always to stand by him. So you see, I must conclude that God means to
distinguish me by a test. He may even subject me to others; but I shall
not wince. I shall welcome His trials. He turned upon her the face of
simple faith."

"Did you speak to that lawyer about the possibility of a contest--of
proving unsound mind?"

"I did, but he saw no chance whatever."

Aunt Bell hereupon surveyed her beautifully dimpled knuckles minutely,
with an affectionate pride--a pride not uncritical, yet wholly
convinced.

"Of course," added Allan after a moment's reflection, "there's no sense
in believing that every bit of one's hard luck is sent by God to test
one. One must in all reverence take every precaution to prove that the
disaster is not humanly remediable. And this, I may say, I have done
with thoroughness--with great thoroughness."

"Bernal may be dead," suggested Aunt Bell, brightening now from an
impartial admiring of the toes of her small, plump slippers.

"God forbid that he should be cut off in his unbelief--but then, God's
will be done. If that be true, of course, the matter is different.
Meantime we are advertising."

"I wish I had your superb faith, Allan. I wish Nancy had it...."

Her niece's husband turned his head and shoulders until she had the
three-quarters view of his face.

"I have faith, Aunt Bell. God knows my unworthiness, even as you know it
and I know it--but I have faith!"

The golden specks in his hazel eyes blazed with humility, and a flush of
the same virtue mantled his perfect brow.

Such news of Bernal Linford as had come back to Edom, though meagre and
fragmentary, was of a character to confirm the worst fears of those who
loved him. The first report came within a year after his going, and
caused a shaking of many heads.

An estimable farmer, one Caleb Webster, living on the outskirts of Edom,
had, in a blameless spirit of adventure, toured the Far West, at
excursion rates said to be astounding for cheapness. He had met the
unf