to be at his agreeable best.

When they left the table, he said, "No, Colonel, I shall not smoke
to-night. May I have a few minutes of your time, Mrs. Penhallow?"

"Certainly, Mark--I want to talk to you about the Bible Class--I mean to
take it up again." She led the way into her own little library. "Sit
down--there is so much to talk over. Of course, you will marry these dear
children somewhere about Christmas time."

"No," he said, "I shall be far away."

"Away! Oh, Mark! surely you do not mean to leave us."

"Yes, I am going to live as a missionary among the Indians."

"You cannot--you really cannot--where could you be more useful than
here?"

"No, I must go. My life on the whole has been most happy here--and how to
thank you I fail to be able to say."

"But why," she urged, "why do you go?"

"Oh--I want--I must have an active life, open air, even risks. The war
gave me what I need for entire competence of body and mind to use in my
Master's service. But now, the war is at an end--"

"Thank God! But all you ask--and more--Mark, except danger, are
here--and oh, but we shall miss you, and more than ever when we miss
too these children. Think of it--don't make up your mind until James
talks to you--"

"No, I go to-morrow."

"But it does seem to me, Mark, that you are making a serious change
without sufficient consideration of what you lose and we lose."

"Yes, yes," he returned, "I know--but to remain is for me impossible."

"But why?"

He was silent a moment, looking at this dear friend with the over-filled
eyes of a troubled and yet resolute manhood. Then he said, "I did not
mean to tell you why in my weakness flight alone will save me from what
has been to me unbearable here and ever will be."

"Can I in any way help you?"

"No."

"But what is it--trust me a little--what is it?"

He hesitated, and then said, "It is Leila Grey! God pity my weakness, and
you will say good-bye and give the Squire this note and them my love." He
was gone.

The woman sat still for an hour, pitiful, and understanding the flight
of a too sensitive man. Then she gave her husband the note, with her
good-night, and no other word. Of why her friend had gone she said later
nothing, except to defend him for his obedience to the call of duty. Late
that evening John returned.

When after breakfast next day he and Leila were riding through the
wood-roads of the forest, John said, "I cannot or I could not see why
Mr. Rive