"A married lady is not supposed to appreciate any man's attention, good, bad, or indifferent." Edith knew it was no good to reply, so she sat in embarrassed silence. She was glad when Alma soon joined them. "Have just had a letter from George," said Alma joyously. "Harold longs to see me, and George longs to see the miraculous change in his patient, so both are coming to Boonville next week." "That is well," remarked Howard. "He can perhaps predict when Edith can return." "I am ready now," she said quickly. "I am perfectly strong." Alma turned to Howard. "Really, Mr. Hester, Fate must have directed us here. Edith owes a great part of her recovery to Mr. Holt. If he were not such a Godly man, I would believe he had employed magic!" A quick frown darkened Howard's countenance, and he puffed his cigar in short, jerky puffs. Alma did not realize how she had heaped coals upon fire. When Edith and Howard were again alone, Mr. Holt appeared. When Edith introduced them, she noticed her husband was barely polite. He vouchsafed no pleasantry whatever, which was entirely contrary to his usual, jovial way of meeting strangers. Mr. Holt, seemingly, did not notice any coldness, and directed his conversation with his accustomed earnestness. "Well, Mrs. Hester, I will be leaving Boonville tomorrow," he said finally. Howard read disappointment in his wife's face. "O, I am sorry to hear that," replied Edith, with more fervor than Howard thought necessary. "I--we will all miss you, more than you guess." Mr. Holt regarded her with deep concern. With no excuse whatever, Howard left them, and entered the sun parlor nearby. Edith followed her husband's retreat with a gaze full of troubled surprise. Mr. Holt quietly took Howard's seat, and said, kindly: "We have grown very near together in all spiritual thought, have we not? Then, let us be frank in all truth between us. Your husband, Mrs. Hester, does not like me. No, do not gainsay the fact. I read his thoughts in his scrutiny of me. He misjudges the "Mormon," as most people do,--such is the way of the world's judgments!" He handed her a book. "Read this, and learn precious truth as I could scarcely give it." "Thank you," she said earnestly, her embarrassment at her husband's show of feeling making her ashamed to say many words. Her husband approached unnoticed. "Edith, I would like you to return Mr. Holt's present." Edith turned to meet the first real anger in her husband's eyes. She arose, and drawing herself to her fullest height, she faced him in sudden indignation. Mr. Holt arose also, and, looking from one to the other kindly, he said calmly: "I regret this, believe me. Had I known--" "Edith," interrupted Howard, with a slight rise in his voice, ignoring Holt's presence entirely, "will you please oblige me?" Holt's steady gaze gradually drew Edith's eyes toward him. She read in their soulful depths, only tender entreaty to obey.