"Very glad to 'elp in such a good cause, sir," he answered. "Only one thing, if I might make so bold: I 'ope you won't forget young Jerry's alf-dollar come Christmas. Means a lot to a little feller like that." The pair passed out into the Paddock Close. Old Mat and his missus were coming down the hill from church. The young couple strolled to meet them. "He's been making amends for what he did amiss at Liverpool, dad has," said Mrs. Woodburn comfortably. Mat lifted a dull eye to the blue. "Yes," he said. "I put a sovereign in the plate. That should square the account, de we, accordin' to my reckonin'." He pursed his lips firmly, almost defiantly, as he looked the heavens in the face. A sudden shyness fell on the little group. Then Boy went to her mother, lifted the old lady's veil, and kissed her. "Mother," she said. Mrs. Woodburn took Jim Silver's hand in both of hers, and kneaded it in just the way her daughter would do in moments of deep emotion. She said nothing, but her eyes were beautiful. Old Mat swallowed, touched his hat, and looked away. "That's a little bit o' better," he muttered to himself. * * * * * A minute later the old man was walking down the hill, Mrs. Woodburn on his arm. The young couple strolled on up the slope. Boy looked across the Paddock Close to Joses's window. Mrs. Boam was pulling up the blind, and the sun was pouring in splendid torrents on to the dead man within. The girl was glad. They came to the quiet church. "Shall we go in?" she said. "Let's," he answered. Together they entered the silence and stood looking up toward the Figure in the dim east window. Mr. Haggard, in his cassock, was arranging the narcissi on the altar. As he saw them, he turned and came slowly down the aisle in the quiet. For Boy it was almost as if the Figure in the window had come to life and was drawing near to her and Jim. THE END THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS GARDEN CITY, N.Y.