it. She wanted something lively, and I tried just as hard as I
could to play something like that. But I couldn't. I played something
that was terrible--it just played itself--it seemed as if something was
lost that could never be found again. And before I got through, Naomi
came at me, and tore the violin from me, and--SWORE. And she said, 'You
big-eyed brat, how did you know THAT?' Then she took me by the arm--and
she hurt me, too, I can tell you--and she put me right out in the rain
and slammed the door."

"The rude, unmannerly creature!" said Janet indignantly.

"Oh, no, she was quite in the right," said Felix composedly. "It served
me right for what I played. You see, she didn't know I couldn't help
playing it. I suppose she thought I did it on purpose."

"What on earth did you play, child?"

"I don't know." Felix shivered. "It was awful--it was dreadful. It was
fit to break you heart. But it HAD to be played, if I played anything at
all."

"I don't understand what you mean--I declare I don't," said Janet in
bewilderment.

"I think we'll change the subject of conversation," said Mr. Leonard.

It was a month later when "the simple creature, Maggie" appeared at the
manse door one evening and asked for the preached.

"Naomi wants ter see yer," she mumbled. "Naomi sent Maggie ter tell yer
ter come at onct."

"I shall go, certainly," said Mr. Leonard gently. "Is she very ill?"

"Her's dying," said Maggie with a broad grin. "And her's awful skeered
of hell. Her just knew ter-day her was dying. Maggie told her--her
wouldn't believe the harbour women, but her believed Maggie. Her yelled
awful."

Maggie chuckled to herself over the gruesome remembrance. Mr. Leonard,
his heart filled with pity, called Janet and told her to give the poor
creature some refreshment. But Maggie shook her head.

"No, no, preacher, Maggie must get right back to Naomi. Maggie'll tell
her the preacher's coming ter save her from hell."

She uttered an eerie cry, and ran at full speed shoreward through the
spruce woods.

"The Lord save us!" said Janet in an awed tone. "I knew the poor girl
was simple, but I didn't know she was like THAT. And are you going,
sir?"

"Yes, of course. I pray God I may be able to help the poor soul," said
Mr. Leonard sincerely. He was a man who never shirked what he believed
to be his duty; but duty had sometimes presented itself to him in
pleasanter guise than this summons to Naomi Clark's death-bed.