within, breaking again and again into its
startled cry, and my soul answered it with peals of such humiliation as
is known only to the man whose heart affords a home to that ill-matched
pair, the discomfiture of the candidate and the pride of the
Presbyterian.

The door was opened by the master of the house, Michael Blake, a man of
forty-five or so, the wealthy senior of New Jedboro's greatest
manufacturing firm.

I suppose he looked first at me, but my first sensation was of his keen
eye swiftly falling on the shabby travelling-bag in my left hand, my
right kept disengaged for any friendly overture which might await me.

Oh, the shame and the anguish of those swift glances towards one's
travelling-bag! Can no kind genius devise a scheme for their temporary
concealment such as the modern book agent has brought to its perfection,
full armed beneath the treacherous shelter of his cloak?

I broke the silence: "Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr. Blake?"

"Yes, that is my name," responded a rich, soulful voice, resonant with
the finest Scottish flavour, "and what can I do for you, sir?"

Presuming that it would be hardly delicate for me to state the
particular duty I was expecting him to discharge, I betook myself to the
association of ideas, and replied--

"I am to preach in St. Cuthbert's to-morrow," hoping that this might
suggest to him the information he had sought.

Swift and beautiful was the transformation. The soul of hospitality
leaped from his face, stern and secretive though it was. His eye, which
had seemed to hold my blushing bag at bay, turned now upon me with all
the music of a great welcome in its glance. He looked at me with that
frank abruptness which true cordiality creates, and when he took my hand
in his my heart leaped to the warm shelter of its grasp.

"I have been looking for you; you are welcome here," he said, in the
quietest of tones. He drew me gently within the massive door, and in
that moment I knew that I was in the custody of love.

A grandfather's clock, proud and stately in its sense of venerable
faithfulness, was gravely ticking off the moments with hospitality in
its tone. A pleasant-faced lassie showed me to my room, reminding me
that the evening meal awaited my descent.

My host justified my every impression. While we disposed of the plain
but appetizing fare, whose crown was the speckled trout which his skill
had lured from home, he submitted me to the kindliest of
cros