tion he was comparatively peaceful in being able to live without
thinking; but when the body had recovered its vigour, the mind grew
active, and the self-torture recommenced. For some hours--he never knew
how many--he suffered in this way; then a strange calm fell upon him.
Was it the Divine help which had come at last, or despair, or the
fatigue of an overwrought spirit? He knelt down and prayed once more,
but this time his prayer consisted simply in placing before his Heavenly
Father the exact state of the case. He was powerless; God should do
with him according to His purpose, only he felt unable to resist if
the temptation came up against him. Jesus, of course, could remove the
temptation or strengthen him if He so willed. His servant was in His
hands.

After continuing in this strain for some time he got up slowly, calm but
hopeless. There was no way of escape for him. He took up the Bible and
attempted again to read it; but of a sudden he put it down, and throwing
his outspread arms on the table and bowing his head upon them he cried:

"My God, forgive me! I cannot hear Thy voice, nor feel Thy presence. I
can only see her face and feel her body."

And then hardened as by the consciousness of unforgivable blaspheming,
he rose with set face, lit his candle, and went to bed.

The week had passed much as usual with Mrs. Hooper and her husband. On
the Tuesday he had seen most of his brother Deacons and found that they
thought as he did. All were agreed that something should be done to
testify to their gratitude, if indeed their pastor refused the "call."
In the evening, after supper, Mr. Hooper narrated to his wife all that
he had done and all that the others had said. When he asked for her
opinion she approved of his efforts. A little while later she turned
to him: "I wonder why Mr. Letgood doesn't marry?" As she spoke she laid
down her work. With a tender smile the Deacon drew her on to his knees
in the armchair, and pushing up his spectacles (he had been reading a
dissertation on the meaning of the Greek verb {--Greek word--}), said with
infinite, playful tenderness in his voice:

"Tain't every one can find a wife like you, my dear." He was rewarded
for the flattering phrase with a little slap on the cheek. He continued
thoughtfully: "Taint every one either that wants to take care of a
wife. Some folks hain't got much affection in 'em, I guess; perhaps Mr.
Letgood hain't." To the which Mrs. Hooper answered not i