.

"And the people? Did you see all your old friends?"

"I saw no one except my sister-in-law and her family."

"You felt no inclination?"

"None whatever."

"By-the-bye"--he seemed to speak half absently, looking closely at his
work--"hadn't you once some thought of building a large new chapel
there?"

"I once had."

She drew her stitches nervously.

"That has utterly passed out of your mind?"

"Must it not necessarily have done so?"

He stepped back, held his head aside, and examined her thoughtfully.

"H'm. I have an impression that you went beyond thinking of it as a
possibility. Did you not make a distinct promise to some one or
another--perhaps to the congregation?"

"Yes, a distinct promise."

He became silent; and Miriam, looking up for the first time, asked:

"Is it your opinion that the promise is still binding on me?"

"Why, I am inclined to think so. Your difficulty is, of course, that
you don't see your way to spending a large sum of money to advance
something with which you have no sympathy."

"It isn't only that I have no sympathy with it," broke from Miriam.
"The thought of those people and their creeds is hateful to me. Their
so-called religion is a vice. They are as far from being Christians as
I am from being a Mahometan. To call them Puritans is the exaggeration
of compliment."

Mallard watched and listened to her with a smile.

"Well," he said, soberly, "I suppose this only applies to the most
foolish among them. However, I see that you can hardly be expected to
build them a chapel. Let us think a moment.--Are there any public baths
in Bartles?"

"There were none when I lived there."

"The proverb says that after godliness comes cleanliness. Why should
you not devote to the establishing of decent baths what you meant to
set apart for the chapel? How does it strike you?"

She delayed a moment; then--

"I like the suggestion."

"Do you know any impartial man there with whom you could communicate on
such a subject?"

"I think so."

"Then suppose you do it as soon as possible?"

"I will."

She plied her needle for a few minutes longer; then looked up and said
that the work was done.

"I am greatly obliged to you. Now will you come here and look at
something?"

She rose and came to his side. Then she saw that there stood on the
easel a drawing-board; on that was a sheet of paper, which showed
drawings of two heads in crayon.

"Do you recognize these persons?" he