"My children," said the old man, "death is over-due with me. It gives me no more concern than the last hour shall give all of us. I had hoped to live for three things: to see my new church raised; to see my son Calvin ready to take my place; to see my neighbor, Miss Wilt, whom I have seen grow up under my eye from childhood, and fair as a lily, brush the dew of scandal from her skirts and resume her place in our church, the handmaid of God again." "Amen, old man!" spoke Calvin irreverently, holding up his plate for oysters. "Why, Cal," exclaimed the hostess, closing her delicately-tinted eyelids till the long lashes rested on the cheek, "why don't you call papa more softly?" "My son," spoke the little old gentleman between his chatterings, "in the priestly office you must avoid abruptness. Be direct at all important times, but neither familiar nor abrupt. I cannot name for you a model of address like Agnes Wilt." "Isn't she beautiful!" said Mrs. Knox. "Do you think she can be deceitful, papa?" "I have no means to pierce the souls of people, Lottie, more than others. I don't believe she is wicked, but I draw that from my reason and human faith. That woman was a pillar of strength in my Sabbath-school. May the Lord bring her forth from the furnace refined by fire, and punish them who may have persecuted her!" "Cal is going into a decline on her account," said Knox. "I know it by seeing him eat waffles. She refused Cal one day, and he came home and eat all the cold meat in the house." "Mr. Salter," the hostess said, raising her voice, "you have a beautiful woman for a landlady. Is she well?" "Very melancholy," said Duff Salter. "Why don't you visit her?" "Really," said the hostess, "there is so much feeling against Agnes that, considering Papa Van de Lear's position in Kensington, I have been afraid. Agnes is quite too clever for me!" "I hope she will be," said Duff Salter, relapsing to his coffee. "He didn't hear what you said, Lot," exclaimed Calvin. "The old man has to guess at what we halloo at him." "Have you appraised the estate of the late William Zane?" asked the minister, with his bold pulpit voice, which Salter could hear easily. "Yes," replied the deaf guest. "It comes out strong. It is worth, clear of everything and not including doubtful credits, one hundred and eighty thousand dollars." "That is the largest estate in Kensington," exclaimed the clergyman. "I shall release it all within one week to Miss Agnes," said Duff Salter. "You are too old, Mr. Van de Lear, to manage it. I have finished my work as co-executor with you. The third executor is Miss Wilt. With the estate in her hands she will change the tone of public opinion in Kensington, perhaps, and the fugitive heir must return or receive no money from the woman he has injured!"