life of me think, and it all seems so strange. I jest can't git
it through my head that father's a-goin' to die. Are you real sure of
it? Mebbe there's a mistake."

"No, Mrs. Gray, there is no mistake. In a few hours he will be safe
forever in the better land."

Esther's power of narration was well developed. Going into the minute
details, she simply told the whole story, while Mrs. Gray attentively
listened without an interruption. There were indications that the
hitherto impregnable fortress of this untutored woman's heart was
beginning to totter. But is there after all in this great world a heart
so loveless, so blackened by sin, or so narrowed by its own selfish
domain, as to be entirely invincible? Cannot the love emanating from
Christ Himself, flowing through the channel of a surrendered life, leave
its impress where all else fails?

Esther's observant eye noted the change, then skilfully she began
speaking of the Lord as a personal Saviour.

Presently tears began rolling down the hardened cheeks, causing the
young messenger to feel that victory was almost certain.

Upon reaching the Fairfax home, Mrs. Gray was ushered into a room, which
to her seemed magnificent.

Grandpa was lying upon an immaculate bed, while everything surrounding
him was far more indicative of loving thoughtfulness than of luxury. In
his hand he clasped a beautiful rose, because during his rational
moments he so often spoke of the "pretty roses a-growin' by the brook
down in the lane." The rose was presented by none other than Dr. Dale,
not--so he assured himself--that he was in the least sympathetic with
the Fairfaxes in their eccentric freak. It was simply for the good of
the patient that all small whims be humored.

Upon a nearby table was Esther's violin. During the long hours of the
preceding night, when the burning fever produced a great restlessness
in the weary sufferer, nothing soothed him but the low, sweet strains of
music.

Now he was calm, and for the first time since Tom died clothed in his
right mind.

"Sary, how be you?" he feebly asked, as she slowly walked up to his
side. "I'm so glad you've come, fer it's all straightened out now, and I
want to thank you afore I go fer all you've done fer me. And may
somebody take care of you real kind when you git old and can't work no
more. I've been a big bother, Sary. You've had a good deal to put up
with since Tom died, but you've been mighty kind. You've always give me
eno