The moment he did so, Mr. Lewis rose and pronounced the benediction, dismissing the meeting without the usual closing hymn. He was afraid that something might be said by Deacon Tuttle or Deacon Miller, who were good men, but not very subtile in their spiritual insight, which would still further alienate the unfortunate young man. His own intention of finding opportunity for a little private talk with him after the meeting was, however, disappointed by the promptness with which Bayley left the room. He did not seem to notice the sympathetic faces and out-stretched hands around him. There was a set smile on his face, and his eyes seemed to look through people without seeing them. There was a buzz of conversation as the people began to talk together of the decided novelty in the line of conference-meeting exhortations to which they had just listened. The tone of almost all was sympathetic, though many were shocked and pained, and others declared that they did not understand what he had meant. Many insisted that he must be a little out of his head, calling attention to the fact that he looked so pale. None of these good hearts were half so much offended by anything heretical in the utterances of the young man as they were stirred with sympathy for his evident discouragement. Mr. Lewis was perhaps the only one who had received a very distinct impression of the line of thought underlying his words, and he came walking down the aisle with his head bent and a very grave face, not joining any of the groups which were engaged in talk. Henry Burr was standing near the door, his hat in his hand, watching Madeline out of the corners of his eyes, as she closed the melodeon and adjusted her shawl. "Good-evening, Henry," said Mr. Lewis, pausing beside the young man. "Do you know whether anything unpleasant has happened to George lately to account for what he said to-night?" "I do not, sir," replied Henry. "I had a fancy that he might have been slighted by some one, or given the cold shoulder. He is very sensitive." "I don't think any one in the village would slight him," said Henry. "I should have said so too," remarked the minister, reflectively. "Poor boy, poor boy! He seems to feel very badly, and it is hard to know how to cheer him." "Yes, sir--that is--certainly," replied Henry incoherently, for Madeline was now coming down the aisle. In his own preoccupation not noticing the young man's, Mr. Lewis passed out. As she approached the door Madeline was talking animatedly with another young lady. "Good-evening," said Henry. "Poor fellow!" continued Madeline to her companion, "he seemed quite hopeless." "Good-evening," repeated Henry. Looking around, she appeared to observe him for the first time. "Good-evening," she said. "May I escort you home?" he asked, becoming slightly red in the face.