“Is it possible?” said Harry.

“Yes, sir.  Her father—­my wife’s, I mean—­was about as high a churchman as he could be, and be married.  He induced me to join our communion; and very soon after I was married.  I hope, Mr. Lossing, you’ll come and see us some time, and see my wife.  She—­are you married?”

“I am not so fortunate.”

“A good wife cometh from the Lord, sir, sure!  I thought I appreciated mine, but I guess I didn’t.  She had two things she wanted, and one I did want myself; but the other—­I couldn’t seem to bring my mind to it, no—­anyhow!  We hadn’t any children but one that died four years ago, a little baby.  Ever since she died my wife has had a longing to have a stained-glass window, with the picture, you know, of Christ blessing little children, put into our little church.  In Memoriam, you know.  Seems as if, now we’ve lost the baby, we think all the more of the church.  Maybe she was a sort of idol to us.  Yes, sir, that’s one thing my wife fairly longed for.  We’ve saved our money, what we could save; there are so many calls; during the sickness, last winter, the sick needed so many things, and it didn’t seem right for us to neglect them just for our baby’s window; and—­the money went.  The other thing was different.  My wife has got it into her head I have a fine voice.  And she’s higher church than I am; so she has always wanted me to intone.  I told her I’d look like a fool intoning, and there’s no mistake about it, I do!  But she couldn’t see it that way.  It was ’most the only point wherein we differed; and last spring, when she was so sick, and I didn’t know but I’d lose her, it was dreadful to me to think how I’d crossed her.  So, Mr. Lossing, when she got well I promised her, for a thank-offering, I’d intone.  And I have ever since.  My people know me so well, and we’ve been through so much together, that they didn’t make any fuss—­ though they are not high—­fact is, I’m not high myself.  But they were kind and considerate, and I got on pretty well at home; but when I came to rise up in that great edifice, before that cultured and intellectual audience, so finely dressed, it did seem to me I could not do it!  I was sorely tempted to break my promise.  I was, for a fact.”  He drew a long breath.  “I just had to pray for grace, or I never would have pulled through.  I had the sermon my wife likes best with me; but I know it lacks—­ it lacks—­it isn’t what you need!  I was dreadfully scared and I felt miserable when I got up to preach it—­and then to think that you were—­but it is the Lord’s doing and marvellous in our eyes!  I don’t know what Maggie will say when I tell her we can get the window.  The best she hoped was I’d bring back enough so the church could pay me eighteen dollars they owe on my salary.  And now—­ it’s wonderful!  Why, Mr. Lossing, I’ve been thinking so much and wanting so to get that window for her, that, hearing