The money-lender of the young village was feared, hated, and fawned upon. His bearing was imperious and sneering towards all. He had a vigorous intellect, however, was uncommonly well-informed, and would discourse to the groups in his store, sitting with his stout legs hanging over the counter, with a coarse brilliancy, original and sagacious, from which the more cultured might cull gems of thought, fresh and striking, despite the terrible swearing, which would startle even bad men. Was there "a well in the rock" of this man's hard heart? We shall see. The lines of the money-lender's face were bitterly hard; but on this afternoon his features worked as if strong conflicting emotions were striving for mastery. Something unusual was stirring his brain; he sat thinking, thinking, uneasily shifting his position, and at length arose, and passing through a dark hall, entered the shop, and said,-- "Ah, Tom, is that you?" "Yes," answered the young man, diffidently; "Mr. Payson said you wished to see me." "Yes, walk in this way;" and Mr. Cowles returned to the home-room, followed by Tom. "Do you know why I sent for you?" asked the grocer. "No, sir." "Well, I had a little private matter that I wished to talk with you about; but I'm hungry as a bear, and if you'll do me the favor to drink a cup of tea with me, I'll try to explain." Tom had ever shrunk from contact with this man, and marvelled much at finding himself his guest. Yet a cosy sitting down together they had, Tom's host being singularly attentive to him, while they partook of the nice edibles. "Tom," said the grocer, as they sat back from the table, "I've heard good accounts of you;" and his voice grew soft and tremulous; "and I'm really glad of it. And I've had an eye on you myself quite a while; and, bad as they say old Cowles is, I like to see others do well. You stuck by your folks when you wished to go off; that's right. You made the most of your schooling; that's in your favor. You are an honest, right-minded lad, aiming to be, I suspect, some such a man as that missionary." Tom's surprise grew apace. How did this rough, swearing, covetous dealer ferret out his heart's secrets? "You wished to go from home to study, but, like a true son, staid by to help the family. That must have been a great self-denial to you; was it not?" "Yes," faltered Tom. "Of course it was. But how did you manage to give it up so bravely?" "Mother advised me to pray about it, and I did." "Do you think it does any good to pray?" asked the grocer. "O, yes, indeed. I couldn't live without prayer, it helps me so much." "But," objected his questioner, "do you imagine that the great God cares enough about our little affairs to answer the trifling requests we may make of him?" "I do, sir," replied Tom, with glowing cheeks and tearful eyes; "I have known him to do so many and many a time." "Perhaps you were deceived."