me unworthy!" A pang of fear shot through him: "Perhaps He sends this to
win me away from Belle." His fancy called her up before him as she had
lain on the sofa. Again he saw the bright malicious glances and the red
lips, the full white throat, and the slim roundness of her figure. He
bowed his head upon his hands and groaned. "O Lord, help me! I know not
what to do. Help me, O Lord!"

As if prompted by a sudden inspiration, he started to his feet. "Now she
must answer! Now what will she say? Here is the call. Ten thousand
dollars a year! What will she say to that?"

He spoke aloud in his excitement, all that was masculine in him glowing
with the sense of hard-won mastery over the tantalizing evasiveness of
the woman.

On leaving his house he folded up the letter, thrust it into the breast-
pocket of his frock-coat, and strode rapidly up the hill towards Mrs.
Hooper's. At first he did not even think of her last words, but when he
had gone up and down the first hill and was beginning to climb the
second they suddenly came back to him. He did not want to meet her
husband--least of all now. He paused. What should he do? Should he wait
till to-morrow? No, that was out of the question; he couldn't wait. He
must know what answer to send to the call. If Deacon Hooper happened to
be at home he would talk to him about the door of the vestry, which
would not shut properly. If the Deacon was not there, he would see her
and force a confession from her....

While the shuttle of his thought flew thus to and fro, he did not at all
realize that he was taking for granted what he had refused to believe
half an hour before. He felt certain now that Deacon Hooper would not be