street over
toward the river, from which wealth and fashion had long fled. His
parish, which had once taken in many of the well-to-do and some of the
wealthy, now embraced within its confines a section which held only the
poor. But, like an older and more noted divine, Dr. Templeton could say
with truth that all the world was his parish; at least, all were his
parishioners who were needy and desolate.

The rectory was an old-fashioned, substantial house, rusty with age, and
worn by the stream of poverty that had flowed in and out for many years.

When Keith mounted the steps the door was opened by some one without
waiting for him to ring the bell, and he found the passages and front
room fairly filled with a number of persons whose appearance bespoke
extreme poverty.

The Doctor was "out attending a meeting, but would be back soon," said
the elderly woman, who opened the door. "Would the gentleman wait?"

Just then the door opened and some one entered hastily. Keith was
standing with his back to the door; but he knew by the movement of those
before him, and the lighting up of their faces, that it was the Doctor
himself, even before the maid said: "Here he is now."

He turned to find an old man of medium size, in a clerical dress quite
brown with age and weather, but whose linen was spotless. His brow under
his snow-white hair was lofty and calm; his eyes were clear and kindly;
his mouth expressed both firmness and gentleness; his whole face was
benignancy itself.

His eye rested for a moment on Keith as the servant indicated him, and
then swept about the room; and with little more than a nod to Keith he
passed him by and entered the waiting-room. Keith, though a little
miffed at being ignored by him, had time to observe him as he talked to
his other visitors in turn. He manifestly knew his business, and
appeared to Keith, from the scraps of conversation he heard, to know
theirs also. To some he gave encouragement; others he chided; but to all
he gave sympathy, and as one after another went out their faces
brightened.

When he was through with them he turned and approached Keith with his
hands extended.

"You must pardon me for keeping you waiting so long; these poor people
have nothing but their time, and I always try to teach them the value of
it by not keeping them waiting."

"Certainly, sir," said Keith, warmed in the glow of his kindly heart. "I
brought a letter of introduction to you from my father, Gen