“This is grandpa, is it not?” he added, grasping the old man cordially by the hand.  “I am indeed very glad to see you.

“Mr. Dawson, you are needed to seat the people.  I shall escort these to a pew myself.”

The trio a few minutes later slowly passing down the aisle was certainly unusually striking.  The pastor, with head erect and thoroughly conscious that many were displeased, was half supporting upon his strong right arm the shabbily-dressed and feeble man, while the child in ragged apparel he tenderly led by the hand.

An observant eye might have noted various expressions upon the faces in the audience.  Some evidently were disgusted that their popular pastor would so demean himself.  Others were interested because of the oddity of the scene, still others amused, while here and there was one conversant with the language of the Master and who prayed God’s blessing to abide upon all three.

Belonging to the first-named class was Dr. Dale, wealthy, cautiously conservative always, aristocratic, exclusive in his circle of friends, and who wished also to be exclusive in his church relationship.  The knowledge of his power over the majority of his acquaintances was a source of constant gratification to the proud man, but the fact that his pastor would not bow the knee to his wealth and position chafed him sorely.  The events of this particular Sunday morning he took as only another personal insult.

“Umph!” he grunted in deep displeasure, and reached over to pick up his hat preparatory to leaving.  He could not countenance anything so ridiculously absurd.  If the pastor’s eccentricities continued to develop as they had in the last year, he would be compelled to seek another and more congenial church home, where form was more in evidence.

Prim little Mrs. Dale, the one person in the world who could influence her austere husband, gently tapped him upon the arm and whispered: 

“Stay, my dear, and see what comes of it all.  It is really quite unusual.”

“Well,” he thought, “I’ll stay to please her, and in the meantime take a nap.”

More to his discomfiture than ever, Dr. Fairfax had seated the strange pair directly across the aisle from him in the pew with Esther.

Glancing over to note the effect upon her, Mr. Dale saw that she took the little girl up into her lap, bestowing upon her fond caresses.  He looked long enough for Rosa’s large brown eyes to meet his own, then with a great heart pang turned away.  When had he ever seen so perfect a likeness to his own Margaret, his only and idolized darling, who had left his home the year before?  Something seemed to be clutching at his heart most relentlessly, while a lump was filling his throat.  Nervously and hastily lest his wife might see, he wiped from his brow the gathering perspiration.  Persistently he endeavored to settle down for the nap, but with eyes either closed or open, all he could see was the child across the aisle.  One moment he wished to fold her within his arms so strangely empty for twelve long months, and the next mentally upbraided her for so cruelly tearing open the one deep wound of his life.