me back!" he cried, "you will fu'give me!"

"Yes, yes, of co'se, I will, Madison, ef you has made a man of yo'se'f."

"I hopes to prove dat to you."

It was a very pleasant evening that they spent together, and like old
times to Martha. Never once did it occur to her that this sudden finding
of a husband might be awkward on the morrow when the visitor came to
dinner. Nor did she once suspect that Madison might be up to one of his
old tricks. She accepted him for just what he said he was and intended
to be.

Her first doubt came the next morning when she began to hurry her
preparations for church. Madison had been fumbling in his carpet bag and
was already respectably dressed. His wife looked at him approvingly, but
the glance turned to one of consternation when he stammered forth that
he had to go out, as he had some business to attend to.

"What, on de ve'y fust day you hyeah, ain't you goin' to chu'ch wid me?"

"De bus'ness is mighty pressin', but I hopes to see you at chu'ch by de
time de services begin. Waih does you set?" His hand was on the door.

Martha sank into a chair and the tears came to her eyes, but she choked
them back. She would not let him see how much she was hurt. She told him
in a faltering voice where she sat, and he passed out. Then her tears
came and flooded away the last hope. She had been so proud to think that
she would walk to church with her husband that morning for the first
time in so long a while, and now it was all over. For a little while she
thought that she would not go, and then the memory of all the
preparations she had made and of the new minister came to her, and she
went on with her dressing.

The church was crowded that morning when Martha arrived. She looked
around in vain for some sight of Madison, but she could see nothing of
him, and so she sank into her seat with a sigh. She could just see the
new minister drooping in his seat behind the reading desk. He was
evidently deep in meditation, for he did not get up during the hymn.

Then Martha heard the Rev. Silas Todbury speaking. His words did not
affect her until she found that the whole of his closing sentence was
flashing through her brain like a flame. "We will now be exho'ted by de
Reverent Madison Mixon."

She couldn't believe her ears, but stared wildly at the pulpit where the
new preacher stood. It was Madison. Her first impulse was to rise in her
seat and stop him. It was another of his tricks, and he should