Yes, and even Beverly the brave, and Tom
the outraged, as they stood to receive the benediction of
the preacher, were more of men and less of firebrands
than they were. They all stood with reverence; they
paused a moment, and then slowly walked down the aisle.
"Where is your father, Horace?" said Mrs. Molyneux,
a little anxiously, as she came where she could
speak aloud. Horace was waiting for her.
"Papa? He went away with the gentleman who came in
after service began; they crossed the street and took a
carriage together."
"And did papa leave no message?"
"Why, no; he did not turn round. The strange man--
the man in the rough coat--just touched him and spoke to
him half-way down the aisle. Then papa whispered to him
and he whispered back. Then, as soon as they came into
the vestibule here, papa led him out at that side door,
and did not seem to remember me. They almost ran across
the street, and took George Gibb's hack. I knew the
horses."
"That's too bad," said Laura; "I thought papa would
walk home with us and tell us the story of the bears."
Poor Mrs. Molyneux thought it was too bad, too; but
she said nothing.
And Matty, when she joined her mother, said,--
"I shall feel a thousand times happier, mamma, if I
go and see Mrs. Gilbert now." And she explained who Mrs.
Gilbert was. "Perhaps it may do some good.
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