There stood the minister by his desk, with his proudly gentle brow all furrowed, and his fine, long scholar-fingers clutching nervously at the back of his arm-chair.

He cast one glance around as the door opened and shut, then looked away, then commanded himself with an effort, and stepped forward and bowed courteously to the woman in her black satin and pearls.

Elvira Gordon looked from one to the other, and the two men followed her glances, and each waited for the other to speak.
"Where is she ?" she asked, finally.
"She is up in her chamber," replied Parson Fair, in a voice more strained with his own anxiety than it had ever been in the pulpit over the sins of his fellow-men.

"I know not what to say or do--I never thought that daughter of mine--she will not come--" Then Elvira Gordon cast a quick, sharp glance at her son, which he met with proud misery and resentment.

"It is quite true, mother," he said.