agedy of Liot's soul; it seemed the proper environment.

He bared his head as he took his place, and when urged to put on
his hat flung it from him. The storm beat on Karen's coffin; why not
on his head also? People looked at him pitifully as he passed, and an
old woman, as she came out of her cottage to cast the customary three
clods of earth behind the coffin, called out as she did so, "The
comforts of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost be with you, Liot." It
was Margaret Borson, and she was a century old. She tottered into
the storm, and a little child handed her the turf clods, which she
cast with the prayer. It came from kindred lips, and so entered
Liot's ears. He lifted his eyes a moment, looked at the eldrich,
shadowy woman trembling in the gray light, and bowing his head said
softly, "Thank you, mother."

There was not a word spoken at the open grave. Liot stood in a
breathing stupor until all was over, and then got back somehow to
his desolate home. Paul Borson's wife had taken the child away with
her, and other women had tidied the room and left a pot of tea on the
hob and a little bread and meat on the table. He was alone at last.
He slipped the wooden bolt across the door, and then sat down to
think and to suffer.

But the mercy of God found him out, and he fell into a deep sleep;
and in that sleep he dreamed a dream, and was a little comforted.
"I have sinned," he said when he awoke; "but I am His child, and I
cannot slip beyond His mercy. My life shall be atonement, and I will
not fear to fall into His hands."

And, thank God, no grief lasts forever. As the days and weeks wore
away Liot's sorrow for his wife grew more reasonable; then the
spring came and the fishing was to attend to; and anon little David
began to interest his heart and make him plan for the future. He
resolved to save money and send the lad to St. Andrew's, and give him
to the service of the Lord. All that he longed for David should
have; all that he had failed to accomplish David should do. He would
give his own life freely if by this sacrifice he could make David's
life worthy to be an offering at His altar.

The dream, though it never came true, comforted and strengthened him;
it was something to live for. He was sure that, wherever in God's
universe Karen now dwelt, she would be glad of such a destiny for
her boy. He worked cheerfully night and day for his purpose, and
the work in itself rewarded him. The little home in which he h