"Well, sir, it was a wonderful life; and when it ended, as I tell you it did a little more than a month ago, I never saw anything like the demonstration; and I didn't wonder at it. Twenty-nine years they had elected that man to office, and the Lord had elected him to a much higher office here on earth; his little notes bore a big harvest; and when the Lord called him to his seat in the Church triumphant, the Church on earth looked around for some one on whom his mantle could fall, and I tell you it seemed for a time impossible to do without him. Why, I moderated the meeting for them when they met to try to fill his place, and they just spent the first half-hour in tears and praying! Such lives tell. 'Infirmity,' indeed! God grant us more men like Daniel Miller." "What became of Nettie and the boy? Did they get their accounts all settled?" It was the first time the intent listener had interrupted the old Doctor's vivid story. Indeed, it could not be called an interruption, now, for the Doctor had paused, and let his thoughts run back into the tender past. He roused himself with the question and laughed a little:— "How is it, my son?" he asked, looking over toward the writing-table. "Have you and Nettie finished the accounts, or are they open yet?" "We mean to keep them open, sir, until we join the 'Church triumphant.'" The young man answered quickly, albeit his voice was husky, and he brushed his hand hastily over dim eyes. Then he turned to the guest. "My father has given you a true picture of my father-in-law's fruitful life; as good a picture as can be drawn on the moment; but it is as he says: no one can tell the story in its fullness. I think we shall have a wonderful account of it some day." There was silence in the pleasant room for a few moments. Then the guest turned to Dr. Mentor. "Thank you," he said brightly, "thank you very much; they say that 'a word to the wise is sufficient,'" and he stammered as he tried to speak; then he arose to go. "Father," said the son, returning from seeing the guest to the door, and stopping for a moment before his father, "do you think Frank Horton in danger of becoming deaf? Or is it because he stammers, or just what is the hidden purpose of the story?"