bride that's
goin' to be. I never see Keziah look so well, neither."

Keziah did look well. Her parson had emerged triumphant from his battle
with disease and adverse fate and was more than ever the idol of his
congregation. He was to marry the girl of his choice--and hers. The
housekeeper's ears were still ringing with the thanks of John and Grace.
Both seemed to feel that to her, Keziah Coffin, more than anyone else,
they owed their great joy. Some of the things they said she would never
forget. And her own life, too, was freed forever of its burden, the
secret which had hung over her for so many years. Only a very few knew
that secret, and they would not disclose it. Toward the memory of the
man buried in the stranger's lot at the cemetery she felt almost
kindly now. While he lived she had feared and dreaded him, now she was
beginning to forgive. For he had paid his debt with his life, and with
her, beside her, was the other, the one whom she had loved, had given
up, had mourned for, and who was now to be hers always. No wonder Keziah
looked well. She was happy, and happiness is a wondrous beautifier.

The minister went up the stairs to the pulpit. He was still white and
thin, but his eyes were bright and his voice clear. He gave out the
opening hymn and the service began.

They said it was the finest sermon ever preached in that church, and
perhaps it was. When it was over, before the benediction was pronounced,
Ellery stepped out from behind the pulpit to the edge of the platform.
He looked over the friendly faces upturned to his and, for an instant,
it seemed that he could not trust himself to speak.

"My friends," he said, "I cannot let you go without a personal word. I
owe you so much, all of you, that nothing I can say will convey to you
my feeling of gratitude and love for this congregation and this church.
You have stood by me all through. You trusted me and believed in me. I
came to Trumet a stranger. I have found here the truest friends a man
could hope to find--yes, and more than friends. If I live, and while
I live, I shall hope to prove by the best effort that is in me my
realization of the great debt I owe you and my desire to repay it, even
though the payment must, of necessity, be so inadequate. God bless you
all--and thank you."

"Wa'n't it lovely!" gushed Didama. "And when he said that about true
friends he was lookin' straight at Gracie all the time."

"Didn't seem to me so," declared Gaius