NOW that the ordination services had passed, the young clergyman girded himself up for his work among his people. It was his chosen work, and, could he have blotted a few pages from the book of his past life, he would have gone forward with hope as well as with courage. During the few days preceding the ordination, he humbled himself before God, asking help of the Divine Spirit to search out whatever was wrong in his heart and help him to overcome in whatever tempted him. Still there was a kind of bewilderment in his mind, a kind of waiting to see whether his Father in heaven, who knew every event of his life, might not interpose even yet and by his providence send him back to his work among the poor in the city. During these days the influence of the sweet child Ethel did much to quiet him and inspire him to more confidence in gaining the affection of his people. She used to fix her eyes so wistfully on his, as she sat opposite him at table, watching and waiting for the smile which now and then flitted across his features,— a smile not soon forgotten, so entirely did it change the whole expression of his countenance. At his bidding she would come and nestle herself in his arms, never obtruding herself on his notice, but quietly submitting to having her hand held tenderly and occasionally put to his lips. Her brother Joe, or Gardner, as his mother called him, was rather a saucy boy, the only son, and of course a great pet. When he thought Mr. Angus was out of the house, he would march up and down the long hall singing, Our pastor is a rare, rare man, He sings so fine you cannot tell, His smile is bright as bright can be, But then he only smiles for Ethel. "Look here, I'll tell you a secret," he said to Annie. "My poetry will be the making of me. I have succeeded so well in my first effort I intend to publish a book of poems, and I shall dedicate it to the Rev. Harold Angus, who first inspired my muse. Isn't that the way they put it? I shall have, let me see, how many copies printed for private use, one for mother, Marion, and you,"—counting on his fingers—"one for Mr. Angus and Ethel, five, and I'll keep one for myself." Annie laughed heartily, as she said, "If the rest is as fine as your first verse, no doubt there will be a great sale. I'm so glad Mr. Angus is to live here." "Only for the present. He said he wouldn't ask more, and then he whispered baby to plead for him. Wasn't it funny how seriously the little puss took it? When she found there was even a possibility of his going away, she walked right up to pa and said,"— "'Do you want your little girl to go way off?'" "'No, puss, what do you mean?'" "'Why, you know if Mr. Angus goes I shall have to go. He can't go alone, and he hasn't any little girl but me.'" "'In that case,' pa said, 'the matter is soon settled; pa can't spare his baby any way.'"