He begged me in such an earnest way to come back to the church and join in its work, I've made up my mind to go."
King rubbed his hand over his head hopelessly.
"Well, if you've made up your mind, you will go. Ruth, you are the hardest-headed woman to have such a beautiful spirit I ever knew."
The dark eyes smiled into his face.
"You may go with me, Morris."
He took up his cane and coat.
"I'll grudge the minutes I can't talk, but I'll sit and look at you. You are growing more beautiful every day, Ruth. I am grateful for the honour you are going to do me in attending the inauguration. I'll agree to anything you say to-day."
They slipped into a seat under the gallery unobserved. The new usher did not recognise either Ruth or her distinguished escort.
The services moved her with a strange power. In every hymn she heard the deep rich voice of Gordon as she had seen him so often stand in that pulpit. The swell of the organ's full notes throbbed with his memory. The man she heard was no longer the new pastor, but her beloved, and she was living over again the sweet days of the past when he was her own and she had filled his life.
The preacher was reading the most beautiful psalm in the language of man: "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie
