"I think we will take it, Mr. Sleighter," said Mrs. Gwynne. "Michael
dear, I feel Mr. Sleighter is right, and besides I know he is doing us a
great kindness."

"Kindness, ma'am, not at all. Business is business, and that's all there
is to it. Well, I'll be goin'. Think it over, get the papers fixed up by
to-morrow. No, don't thank me. Good-bye."

Mrs. Gwynne followed him to the door, her face flushed, her eyes aglow,
a smile hovering uncertainly about her lips. "Mr. Sleighter," she said,
"the Lord sent you to us because He knew we were in need of guiding."

"Ho, ho!" laughed Mr. Sleighter. "Like that Samaritan chap in the
reading, eh? I guess you had got among thieves all right, more of 'em
perhaps than you recognised too."

"He sent you to us," repeated Mrs. Gwynne, offering him her hand.

"Well, I donno but that He steered me to you. But all the same I guess
the advantage is to me all right." Mr. Sleighter looked hard down the
street, then turned and faced her squarely. "I want to say that it's
done me a pile of good to have seen you, ma'am. It's made things look
different."

"You are a good man, Mr. Sleighter," she said, looking at him with misty
eyes.

"A good man!" Mr. Sleighter was seized with a cough. "A good man! Good
Lord, ma'am! nobody never found it out but you--durn that cough anyway."