A little spark flashed in Wolffert's eyes. "He did not need to improve. He has only ripened. God endowed him with a heart big enough to embrace all humanity--except--" he added, with a twinkle in his eye, "the Jew." "I do not believe that." "By the way, I have a friend who tells me she has met you. Your dog appears to have made quite an impression on her." "Who is she?" "Miss Leigh, the daughter of the gentleman we were talking about." "Oh! yes--a fine girl--I think," I said with a casual air--to conceal my real interest. "I should say so! She is the real thing," he exclaimed. "She told me you put out her fire for her. She teaches the waifs and strays." "Put out her fire! Was ever such ingratitude! I made her fire for her. Tell me what she said." But Wolffert was gone, with a smile on his face. XXII THE PREACHER So, "the preacher" whom my client, McNeil, and my poor neighbors talked of was no other than John Marvel! I felt that he must have changed a good deal since I knew him. But decency, as well as curiosity, required that I go to see him. Accordingly, although I had of late gone to church only to see a certain worshipper, I one evening sauntered over toward the little rusty-looking chapel, where I understood he preached. To my surprise, the chapel was quite full, and to my far greater surprise, old John proved to be an inspiring preacher. Like Wolffert, he had developed. When he came to preach, though the sermon was mainly hortatory and what I should have expected of him, his earnestness and directness held his congregation, and I must say he was far more impressive than I should have imagined he could be. His sermon was as far from the cut-and-dried discourse I was used to hear, as life is from death. He spoke without notes and directly from his heart. His text, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden." He made it out to be a positive promise of rest for the weary in body, mind and soul, given by One not only able to help, but longing to do so: a pitying Father, who saw His tired children struggling under their burdens and yearned toward them. The great Physician was reaching out His hands to them, longing to heal them, if they but received Him; if they but followed Him. To be converted meant to turn from what they knew to be evil and try to live as they felt He lived. He had come to bring the gospel to the poor. He had been poor--as poor as they. He knew their sorrows and privations and weakness; and their sins, however black they were. All He asked was that they trust Him, and try to follow Him, forgetting self and helping others. Do not be afraid to trust Him, or despair if He does not make Himself known to you. He is with you even until the end--and often as much when you do not feel it as when you do.