sponsive, electric thrill. The Methodist girls were right--he was
fascinating.

She didn't wait until after the service to express her approbation to
Tess--anyway, to a fifteen-year-old surreptitiousness seems to add zest
to any communication. She tore a corner from the hymnal fly-leaf and
scribbled her verdict while the elder O'Neills and most of the old
people were kneeling in prayer. Assuring herself that all nearby heads
to be dreaded were reverentially bent, she passed the missive. As she
did so she chanced to glance up toward the minister.

Oh, dear heaven! He was looking straight down at her. He had seen
her--the O'Neill pew was only three rows back. It was too awful. What
would he think of her? An agony of embarrassment and shame swept over
her.

And then--could she believe her eyes?--right in the midst of his prayer,
his harshly melodious voice rising and falling with never a break--the
Reverend MacGill smiled. Smiled straight at her--there could be no
mistake. And a knowing, sympathetic, understanding kind of smile! Yes,
he was human.

She liked him better than she had ever thought it possible to like a
minister--especially an ugly one, and one whom she'd never "met."

But after service she "met" him at the door, where he was standing to
shake hands with the departing worshippers. As Mrs. O'Neill introduced
her, rather unhappily, as "one of Tess's little friends," he flashed her
another smile which said, quite plainly: "I saw you up to your pranks,
young lady!" But it was not until after Dr. and Mrs. O'Neill had passed
on that he said aloud: "That was all right--all I ask is that you don't
look so innocent when your hands are at mischief."

Oh, she adored his smile!

The following Sunday evening she was invited to the O'Neills' for
supper, and the Reverend MacGill was invited too. The knowledge of this
interesting meeting impending made it possible for her to view Genevieve
and Arthur, again out on a Sunday afternoon stroll, with a certain
equanimity. Genevieve, though very striking and vivacious in her white
fox, was indubitably a frivolous-minded girl; she, Missy, was going
to eat supper with the Reverend MacGill. Of course white fox furs were
nice, and Arthur's eyelashes curled up in an attractive way, but there
are higher, more ennobling things in life.

The Reverend MacGill did not prove disappointing on closer acquaintance.
Grandpa said he knew everything there is to know about the Bible, but
t