anxious pang that he looked worn and ill, and that night she prayed
that the Lord would restore his health to him for the sake of his
people.

It was four months after Evelina Adams's death, and her garden was in
the full glory of midsummer, when one evening, towards dusk, young
Evelina went slowly down the street. She seldom walked abroad now,
but kept herself almost as secluded as her cousin had done before
her. But that night a great restlessness was upon her, and she put a
little black silk shawl over her shoulders and went out. It was quite
cool, although it was midsummer. The dusk was deepening fast; the
katydids called back and forth from the wayside bushes. Evelina met
nobody for some distance. Then she saw a man coming towards her, and
her heart stood still, and she was about to turn back, for she
thought for a minute it was the young minister. Then she saw it was
his father, and she went on slowly, with her eyes downcast. When she
met him she looked up and said good-evening, gravely, and would have
passed on, but he stood in her way.

"I've got a word to say to ye, if ye'll listen," he said.

Evelina looked at him tremblingly. There was something strained and
solemn in his manner. "I'll hear whatever you have to say, sir," she
said.

The old man leaned his pale face over her and raised a shaking
forefinger. "I've made up my mind to say something," said he. "I
don't know as I've got any right to, and maybe my son will blame me,
but I'm goin' to see that you have a chance. It's been borne in upon
me that women folks don't always have a fair chance. It's jest this