she was watching the fire he for a moment studied the sweet face
turned half away. And what a charming profile it was, with rounded chin,
delicate patrician nose, and long eyelashes just touching the cheek that
bore a tell-tale flush! Was that faint color due to the fire or to his
words? He could not tell. Then they dropped into a pleasant chat about
trifles, and the ocean's voice kept up its rhythm, the fire sparkled,
and the small cottage clock ticked the happy moments away.

"How is Mrs. Leach?" he asked at last; "does she pray as fervently at
every meeting?"

"Just the same," replied Telly, "and always will as long as she has
breath. It is, as father says, her only consolation."

"I have thought of that evening many times since," he continued, "and
the impression that poor old lady made on me with her piteous
supplication. It was unlike anything of the kind that I ever listened
to. I wonder," he added musingly, "how it would affect a Boston church
congregation some evening to have such an appearing figure, clad as she
was, rise and utter the prayer she did. It would startle them, I
think."

"I do not think Mrs. Leach would enter one of your city churches,"
responded Telly, "and certainly not clad as she has to be. She has a
little pride left, even if she is poor."

"Oh, I meant no reflection," explained Albert, feeling that Telly
thought the old lady needed defending, "only the scene was so
impressive, I wondered how it would affect a fashionable church
gathering. I think it would do them good," he added candidly, "to listen
to a real sincere prayer that came from some one's heart and was not
manufactured for the occasion. Those who wear fine silks and broadcloth
and sit in cushioned pews seldom hear such a prayer as she uttered that
night."

Then as Telly made no response he sat in silence a few moments, mentally
contrasting the girl he had really come to woo with those he had met in
Boston.

And what a contrast!

This girl clad in a gray dress, severe in its simplicity, and so
ill-fitting that it really detracted from the beautiful outlines of her
form, though not entirely hiding them, for that was impossible. Her
luxuriant tresses were braided and coiled low down on the back of her
head, and at her throat a tiny bow of blue. Not an ornament of any name
or nature did she wear, not even a single ring. Only the crown of her
sunny hair, two little rose leaves in her cheeks, and the queen-like
majesty of th