"That's right," said Mr. Tuggar; "argue it out, just as I did. Show yourself no favors, and be fair to yourself, and you can't get away from my conclusion. You've got to come to it." "I should be very glad to come to it," said Gregory, gravely. "I should think you would. There'll be some good neighbors up there, Mr. Gregory; these Waltons are all bound to be there. Miss Annie would be kinder good company--eh, Mr. Gregory?" In spite of himself he flushed deeply under the old man's keen scrutiny. "There's one thing that's mighty 'plexing to me," said Mr. Tuggar, led to the subject by its subtle connection with Gregory's blush, "and that's why the Lord didn't keep John Walton alive a few minutes longer, so that the marriage could take place." Gregory gave a great start. "What marriage?" he asked. "Why, don't you know about it?" said Mr. Tuggar, in much surprise. "No, nothing at all." "Then perhaps I ortn't ter speak of it." "Certainly not, if you don't think it right." "Well, I've said so much I might as well say it all," said the old man, musingly. "It's no secret, as I knows of;" and he told Gregory how near Annie came to being a wife. Gregory drew a long breath and looked deathly pale and faint. "Well, now, I'd no idea that you'd be so struck of a heap," said the old man, in still deeper surprise. "God's hand was in that," murmured Gregory; "God's hand was in that." "Do you think so, now? Well, it does seem kinder cur'us, and per'aps it was, for somehow I never took to that Hunting, though he seems all right." "Good-by, Mr. Tuggar," said Gregory, rising; "you have given me a good deal to think about, and I'm going to think, and act, too, if I can. I am going to New York to-morrow, and one of the first things I do will be to fill your pipe for a long time;" and he pressed the old man's hand most cordially. "Let yourself go limber when you come to trust, and it will be all right," were Daddy Tuggar's last words, as he balanced himself on his crutches in parting. Gregory found Annie in the parlor, and he said, "I have good news for you; Daddy Tuggar is a Christian." Annie sprang joyfully up and said, "I'm going over to see him at once." When she returned, Gregory was quietly reading in the parlor, showing thus that he had no wish to avoid her. She came directly to him and said, "Daddy Tuggar says that you propose going home to-morrow." "Well, really, Miss Walton, I have no home to go to; but I expect to return to the city." "Now I protest against it." "I'm glad you do." "Then you won't go?" "Yes, I must; but I'm glad you don't wish me to go" "Why need you go yet? You ought not. You should wait till you are strong." "That is just why I go--to get _strong_. I never could here, with you looking so kindly at me as you do now. You see I am as frank as I promised to be. So please say no more, for you cannot and you ought not to change my purpose." "O dear!" cried Annie, "how one's faith is tried! Why need this be so?"