"What sort of a voyage home did you have?" Mrs. Farwell asked her son, motherlike, using even a query about the weather to turn attention to her boy. "A good voyage, mother," said J.W. "A fine voyage. But one day--will you let me tell it here, all of you? I've hardly been any more eager for my wedding day than for a chance to say this. I won't tire you, Mr. Drury, will I?" "You'll never do that, my boy," said the preacher. "But don't bother about me, I've long had a feeling that what you are going to say will be better for me than all the doctors." For he had seen the eager glow on J.W.'s face, and his heart was ready to be glad. Thus it was that J.W. told the story of his great moment; how he had talked with Miss Morel one morning of the many-sided work of the church, and how in the afternoon he had looked through the open port of his stateroom and had seen an ocean that looked like the church, and a church that seemed like the ocean. "I shall remember that day forever, I think," he said. "For the first time in my life I could put all the pieces of my life together; my home, my church, the Sunday school, the League, college, the needy life of this town, your country work, Marty, Mexico, China, India--everything; and I could see as one wonderful, perfect picture, every bit of it necessary to all the rest. Our church at work to make Jesus Christ Lord of all life, in my home and clear to the 'roof of the world' out yonder under the snows of Tibet. Can you see it, folks? I think _you_ always could, Mr. Drury!" and he put his hand affectionately on the pastor's knee. Pastor Drury's face was even paler than its wont, but in his eyes glowed the light that never was on sea or land. He was hearing what sometimes he had feared he might not last long enough to hear. The Experiment was justified, and he was comforted! He picked up the Bible that lay near his hand, and turned to the Gospel by Luke. "I hope none of you will think _I_ wrest the Book's words to lesser meanings," he said, "but there is only one place in it that can speak what is in my heart to-day." And he read the song of Simeon in the temple: "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation," and so to the end. It was very still when his weak voice ceased; but in a moment the silence was broken by a cry from J.W. "Why, Mr. Drury, it has been _you_, all these years!" "What do you mean, J.W.?". said Marty, somewhat alarmed and thoroughly mystified. "Exactly what I say, Marty. Can't you see it too? Can't all of you see it?" and J.W. looked from one face to another around the room. "Jeannette, _you_ know what I mean, don't you?" And Jeannette, at once smiling and tearful, said, "Yes, J.W., I've thought about it many times, and I know now it is true." Marty said, "Maybe so; but what?" for he was still bewildered.