The Survivor

rning, and the place was curiously empty. Their little scraps of gay conversation and laughter-they were men and women of the smart world-seemed to strike almo

um ceased, and a man's voice came travelling out to them. The la

and, paused readily enough and leaned his machine against a kerbstone. Bicycling was

a little nearer and listen to the wor

e she was she could catch a sideway glimpse of a tall,

she said, indifferently. "Woul

re him. "As a matter of fact, I have a special invitation

ou mean?"

apel. I had a letter from a worthy farmer and elder, Gideon Strong, on the matter yesterday. He wound up by expr

farmers rose and made a clumsy obeisance to their temporal lord. Gideon Strong, six feet four, with great unbent shoulders, and face as hard and rugged as iron, frowned them down, and showed no signs of noticing his presence.

n strange confusion, himself half in revolt against what lay before him, there floated up the little aisle an exquisite perfume of crushed violets, and he heard the soft rustling of a gown whi

made clothes. Their surroundings were whitewashed and text-hung walls, and in their hearts was the love for narrow ways. He gave out his text slowly and with heavy heart. Then he paused, and, glancing once more round the little building, met again the soft, languid fire of those full dark eyes. This time he did not look away. He saw a faint interest, a slight pity, a background of nonchalance. His cheeks flushed, and the fire of revolt leaped through his veins. He shut up the Bible and abandoned his carefully prepared discourse, in which was a mention of hel

go?" he

his particular miracle might be supposed to have taken place. Again their eyes met for a moment, and she went out into the sunlight with a faint smile upon her lips, for she was a woman who loved to feel