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“You must excuse me, Mr. Lossing; since my sickness a little thing upsets me.”

“Mr. Gilling had diphtheria last spring,” the dean struck in, “there was an epidemic of diphtheria, in Matin’s Junction; Mr. Gilling really saved the place; but his wife and he both contracted the disease, and his wife nearly died.”

Harry remembered some story that he had heard at the time–his eyes began to light up as they do when he is moved.

“Why, YOU are the man that made them disinfect their houses,” cried he, “and invented a little oven or something to steam mattresses and things. You are the man that nursed them and buried them when the undertaker died. You digged graves with your own hands–I say, I should like to shake hands with you!”

Gilling shook hands, submissively, but looking bewildered.

He cleared his throat. “Would you mind, Mr. Lossing, if I took up your time so far as to tell you what so overcame me?”

“I should be glad—-“

“You see, sir, my wife was the daughter of the Episcopal minister–I mean the rector, at the town–well, it wasn’t a town, it was two or three towns off in Shelby County where I had my circuit. You may be surprised, sir, to know that I was once a Methodist minister.”

“Is it possible?” said Harry.

“Yes, sir. Her father–my wife’s, I mean–was about as high a churchman as he could be, and be married. He induced me to join our communion; and very soon after I was married. I hope, Mr. Lossing, you’ll come and see us some time, and see my wife. She–are you married?”

“I am not so fortunate.”

“A good wife cometh from the Lord, sir, SURE! I thought I appreciated mine, but I guess I didn’t. She had two things she wanted, and one I did want myself; but the other–I couldn’t seem to bring my mind to it, no–anyhow! We hadn’t any children but one that died four years ago, a little baby. Ever since she died my wife has had a longing to have a stained-glass window, with the picture, you know, of Christ blessing little children, put into our little church. In Memoriam, you know. Seems as if, now we’ve lost the baby, we think all the more of the church. Maybe she was a sort of idol to us. Yes, sir, that’s one thing my wife fairly longed for. We’ve saved our money, what we COULD save; there are so many calls; during the sickness, last winter, the sick needed so many things, and it didn’t seem right for us to neglect them just for our baby’s window; and–the money went. The other thing was different. My wife has got it into her head I have a fine voice. And she’s higher church than I am; so she has always wanted me to INTONE. I told her I’d look like a fool intoning, and there’s no mistake about it, I DO! But she couldn’t see it that way. It was ‘most the only point wherein we differed; and last spring, when she was so sick, and I didn’t know but I’d lose her, it was dreadful to me to think how I’d crossed her. So, Mr. Lossing, when she got well I promised her, for a thank-offering, I’d intone. And I have ever since. My people know me so well, and we’ve been through so much together, that they didn’t make any fuss–though they are not high–fact is, I’m not high myself. But they were kind and considerate, and I got on pretty well at home; but when I came to rise up in that great edifice, before that cultured and intellectual audience, so finely dressed, it did seem to me I could NOT do it! I was sorely tempted to break my promise. I was, for a fact.” He drew a long breath. “I just had to pray for grace, or I never would have pulled through. I had the sermon my wife likes best with me; but I know it lacks–it lacks–it isn’t what you need! I was dreadfully scared and I felt miserable when I got up to preach it–and then to think that you were–but it is the Lord’s doing and marvellous in our eyes! I don’t know what Maggie will say when I tell her we can get the window. The best she hoped was I’d bring back enough so the church could pay me eighteen dollars they owe on my salary. And now–it’s wonderful! Why, Mr. Lossing, I’ve been thinking so much and wanting so to get that window for her, that, hearing the dean wanted some car-pentering done, I thought maybe, as I’m a fair carpenter–that was my trade once, sir–I’d ask him to let ME do the job. I was aware there is nothing in our rules–I mean our canons–to prevent me, and nobody need know I was the rector of Matin’s Junction, because I would come just in my overalls. There is a cheap place where I could lodge, and I could feed myself for almost nothing, living is so cheap. I was praying about that, too. Now, your noble generosity will enable me to donate what they owe on my salary, and get the window too!”

“Take my advice,” said Harry, “donate nothing. Say nothing about this gift; I will take care of the warden, and I can answer for the dean.”

“Yes,” said the dean, “on the whole, Gilling, you would better say nothing, I think; Mr. Lossing is more afraid of a reputation for generosity than of the small-pox.”

The older man looked at Harry with glistening eyes of admiration; with what Christian virtues of humility he was endowing that embarrassed young man, it is painful to imagine.

The dean’s eyes twinkled above his handkerchief, which hid his mouth, as he rose to make his farewells. He shook hands, warmly. “God bless you, Harry,” said he. Gilling, too, wrung Harry’s hands; he was seeking some parting word of gratitude, but he could only choke out, “I hope you will get MARRIED some time, Mr. Lossing, then you’ll understand.”

“Well,” said Harry, as the door closed, and he flung out his arms and his chest in a huge sigh, “I do believe it was better than the puppies!”