down to the parsonage gate. The driver dismounted and opened the
carriage door, but the draped figure lingered, with her hand upon the
latch.

"If I should die before we meet again, you will not allow them to
trample upon my child?"

"I will do my duty faithfully."

"Remember that none must know I am Minnie Laurance until I give you
permission; for snares have been set all along my path, and calumny
is ambushed at every turn. Good-bye, sir. The God of orphans will one
day requite you."

The light from the carriage lamp shone down on her as she turned
toward it, and in subsequent years the pastor was haunted by the
marvellous beauty of the spirituelle features, the mournful splendour
of the large misty eyes, and the golden glint of the rippling hair
that had fallen low upon her temples.

"If it were not so late, I would accompany you to the railway
station. You will have a lonely ride. Good-bye, Mrs. Laurance."

"Lonely, sir? Aye--lonely for ever."

She laughed bitterly, and entered the carriage.

"Laughed, and the echoes huddling in affright,
Like Odin's hounds fled baying down the night."