t. You have been more than
welcome. Just what I shall do, I don't know, but I am sure the way will
be made clear in time, aren't you, Brother Man?"

"Yes, the road to heaven is always clear," he said, almost singing the
words.

"We shall have to leave this house, Brother Man," said Sarah, feeling
with Philip that he did not grasp the meaning of the event.

"Yes, in the Father's house there are many mansions," replied the
Brother Man. Then as Mr. and Mrs. Strong sat there in the gathering
gloom the old man said suddenly, "Let us pray together about it."

He kneeled down and offered the most remarkable prayer that they had
ever heard. It seemed to them that, however the old man's mind might be
affected, the part of him that touched God in the communion of audible
prayer was absolutely free from any weakness or disease. It was a prayer
that laid its healing balm on the soul of Philip and soothed his trouble
into peace. When the old man finished, Philip felt almost cheerful
again. He went out and helped his wife a few minutes in some work about
the kitchen. And after supper he was just getting ready to go out to
inquire after a sick family near by, when there was a knock at the door.

It was a messenger boy with a telegram. Philip opened it almost
mechanically and carrying it to the light read:

"Alfred died at four P. M. Can you come?"

For a second he did not realize the news. Then as it rushed upon him he
staggered and would have fallen if the table had not been so close. A
faintness and a pain seized him and for a minute he thought he was
falling. Then he pulled himself together and called his wife, who was in
the kitchen. She came in at once, noticing the peculiar tone of his
voice.

"Alfred is dead!" He was saying the words quietly as he held out the
telegram.

"Dead! And you left him getting better! How dreadful!"

"Do you think so? He is at rest. I must go up there at once; they expect
me." He still spoke quietly, stilling the tumult of his heart's anguish
for his wife's sake. This man, his old college chum, was very dear to
him. The news was terrible to him.

Nevertheless, he made his preparations to go back to his friend's home.
It is what either would have done in the event of the other's death. And
so he was gone from Milton until after the funeral, and did not return
until Saturday. In those three days of absence Milton was stirred by
events that grew out of the action of the church.

CHAPT