Pittston Gazette

              fiq M »ltUlllD d 1850. I TOL. L Wo. 44 f Oldest Newspaper in the Wvomine Vallev PITTSTON, LUZERNE COUNTY, PA., FRIDAY, JUNE I A Weekly Local and Family Journal. i #1.00 • Year i : in AdTUM. U MALCOM KIRK. ||| A Tale of Moral HeroisnTfln Overcoming the World. the same way toward all the outward display of wealth. A step came up the path, and the door opened. Mrs. Penrose and Malcom Kirk both rose as Dorothy entered the reception room alone. His dream was a reality. She met him with the look on her face that was never to die out of It as long as he lived, and together they went to see Mrs. Penrose. at his wife, and he fully understood what Dorothy meant. • nardly what he said, but she rose and went Into the house with him. "Mrs. Barton, this Is Mrs. Kirk. I want you to tell her what you have told me." The little woman could see something unusual had happened at the parsonage, but her own trouble practically absorbed her feelings. She looked at Dorothy, however, with the admiration which her beauty of fact often excited in what we call ordinary people. The servant who came In answer to his ring said that Miss Gilbert had gone out for a walk and had not yet returned. He at once asked for Mrs. Penrose. When she came In where Kirk was standing In the reception room, she surprised him by greeting him very warmly by name. He had merely met her at the time of Mr. Gilbert's illness, but not more than once or twice and then very briefly. pends on the way he acceptB this death of his baby." "Do you mean that we will fte how much two people can do to make heaven on earth for 1,500 other people?" loving Father had some great reason unknown to them for taking to himself this bit of humanity that for a few months had made the little parsonage on the prairie the very garden spot of all the world to them. This is only a fragment of Wilson's letter, but the number of times he referred to the death of the baby as marking a crisis in the lives of Malcom and Dorothy revealed the depth of the Impression made upon his mind by the manner in which they were affected by their loss. She came in with her head erect, and there was light enough for her aunt Dorothy's aunt was somewhat perplexed and, to tell the truth, a good deal astonished at the events of the last 24' hours. Dorothy had told her all, and there was no question in Mrs. Penrose's mind that the daughter of John Gilbert had made her definite glad choice of this awkward, unhandsome, poor young minister as her future husband. She could not deny that the young man was a gentleman; also that he had very superior qualities of mind and heart. But the fact remained that he had no prospects except his Home Missionary field and a somewhat uncertain Income from occasional writings. "Yes, and whether in our lifetime wc can redeem whatever is evil here and give it back to God." - k 4 BY CHARLES M. SHELDON, f|I — Author of "In His Step*," "Crucifixion of Philip Strong-," "Robert = = Hardy's Sevan Days." "We will do it by his grace," replied Malcom Kirk gravely. It seemed to him almost as if they two, there In their little church, had made a solemn promise to redeem the souls of all the Dorothy, without a word, took the baby from her husband, and he, without a word, clasped his old classmate's hand, and the men stood there a moment praying. ; y He went away on the morning train, and Malcom, who had gone to the station to see him off, came slowly back to the parsonage and went into the little room next the kitchen which he had fitted up for a study. OOPTIUQHT, 1800, BT THB ADVANCE IO 00. She was a woman of great tact, and she made Kirk feel at ease. She bad not the remotest Idea that he was In love with Dorothy or what was the object of his call, and In a few minutes, seeing this, he made up bis mind what to do. D» = Sflllllllllllll(lllll|lllllllllllllllltl IUmtrationsfcy Herman Htyer. I||||||||||||l!||||||||||||||||||||||fi| = M "It's you, George?" said Kirk, seems good to see your face. We"— "It "Oh, ma'am," she cried, "I've comb ;o see if Mr. Kirk won't help me to jet my boy home again. He's been Irinklng. I live in a lonesome place it The Forks,' and I don't very  ;ome to town, but I have heard ot four husband, and they'say people all iround have gone to him for help, and know he will do what he can for me. tly boy will be 21 next week. I told rour husband that some day your baby up into a good Christian comfort and bless you. That's hoped and prayed my boy And he might If the saloon Dted him." * v foing on, for her heart trouble, when the look on face stopped her. you know—has not Mr. Kirk Du—that our baby—our baby—• week?' '( '*1 riw Malcom Kirk sat down and burled his face in his great hands and sobbed. It was the first time he had broken down in the presence of Dorothy. The sight of his old classmate had revived his Hermon memories. He saw again the old campus, its great avenues of elms, the noble landscape of hills and woods, Dorothy's home across the campus, his own dingy little room, his love for the woman who now was sharing this great trouble with him. And he cried without attempt at concealment, for his heart was sore at the coming loss of the baby out of a borne where God himself had blessed the love of a man and wife as rarely In human lives it has been blessed. Dorothy was at work In the kitchen, and Malcom sat down at his study table and looked out of the window across the prairie. It was unfortunate that from that window he could see the little cemetery In the distance. He finally rose and drew the curtain clear down and went back to his desk. He CHAPTER V. for dollar of his honest indebtedness. To do It meant the loss of his beautiful home In Hermon. Dorothy felt as he did about It. He had no fears on her score. The Integrity and firmness of such a moral course were never in question with either of them. So he had come back from whAre he had been staying with his and the night Kirk called he was busy In his library arranging the business of the Hermon property, going over all the details of bis recent loss and making what provision be could for the future. He was nearly 55, still, as he supposed, In the prime of life, and h^ T MALCOM ATTEMPTS TO BXTtTKN THE MINI- ATURE. "Dorothy is down by the beach with Mr. Kaleigh. They will be back for tea. You have met him, Mr. Kirk? I would be pleased to have you stay and take tea with us." The next day Malcom Kirk doggedly set to work on bis report. In the evening he went over to see the president and consulted with him as to certain details, and then for the next three days be gave himself up to his task of getting together the great mass of material he had accumulated while abroad. It was the fourth eventing of his return that he saw the lights In the Gilbert house across the campus #8 evening set in. The house had been shut up and dark. When she pictured Dorothy in a sod house or a dugout or a shanty in that vague, wild, uncouth place called "out west," living in a parish of plain, uncultured people, such as she placidly took for granted lived on the prairies, Mrs. Penrose felt as if Dorothy's strange choice was the gtrangest thing Bbe ever knew. "Thank you. I shall be glad to do so," replied Malcom Kirk promptly. All the while he was fast arriving at a determination to tell Mrs. Penrose what he had come for. L ' III | would grow i . had known TV- 41 - vw M "I believe you met Mr. Raleigh while you were abroad? He was telling us something about you this morning.""And yet she loves him truly," she said to herself as Dorothy and Mai com Kirk came in that morning both of them glorified by the greatest thin? in all the world, Purothy had neve; looked so beautiful. Kirk had neve, felt so like a giant in possibility. m Finally he lifted up his (ace and spoke calmly: manfully determined to begin all over "Was he?" said Malcom Kirk quietly. "Yes, I met blm on the Oephalonia going over. We bad severaf little visits together. I enjoyed them." "She la home again," vai hia first thought He was unable to work well that evening. The next day he continued, but the evident nearness of Dorothy made him restless to see her. Once she came out on the porch, and| he readily recognized her even at that distance Spoilt evening he (lid not pretend to fylmself that be could do anything worth doing on bis report and reaolved to go and return the miniature without waiting any longer. He had kept It more than a year now. He was under promise to give it back. As well now aa any time. - .^ W  \ "We've hoped all along, of coarse, but the long continued heat has been against his recovery. If s hard to part with the little fellow. See"— Malcom Kirk rose and took the baby again from his wife, while Dorothy sat down near a table and laid her beautiful head on her arms, but still she was without a tear. "See, the little fellow smiles at me still." % heartbroken woman In astonishment. Mrs. Penrose was sitting where she could see from the reception room window the stretch of beacjt. She  out and said: "I don't see them coming yet They will be here soon, I think. You were saying, Mr. Kirk, that you enjoyed meeting Raleigh. Excuse me If I say that he spoke In warmest terms of you.-- He told us about your care of that poor baby. He wondered what became of It afterward." I utfll thare your We with you. Yet, J Mm you." and Malcom Kirk to see In her face the tokens of some recent excitement. Dorothy had anticipated remon strances and opposition from her auin She was surprised and gratified to tin how calmly Mrs. Penrose accepted lbmatter. Even when MiUeo.pi Kirk e.\ pressed his wish, gravely, but wit firmness, thftt they might be married k ORpe go together to the new par Ish to begin their life together Mr* Penrose offered no decided objection. nothing refined or sweet abC ~ 4 gave her the right word particular time. She n Aer hands clasped walk Dorothy. Malcom never f fight "Oh, Mrs. Kirk, m you! Forgive me! I ha town for several weeks, the paper last week at i time I knew anything of yc was well and happy. I wot come with my trouble f . yours." She paused foa noment, while two tears ran Cko over her thin cheeks. Dorothy l)eg to sob. She had not cried before sli that day when the baby was laid In coffin; not even at the grave. "Oh, ma'am," Mrs. Barton went C "your baby will never be a drunka: My husband was. We lost a good fai back in Ohio on account of the drii and then my husband died, and I to the boy and came out here. I wi purposely to a lonesome place to kc my boy from the town. I may ha made a mistake, but I did the best knew, and I feared for him on accot of his father. Oh, ma'am, your bet Is sore, I know it, but it's not as sore mine, for your baby never broke yc heart I would sooner see my boy his coffin than see him as I have x a a time during the past two 43K There's trouble and trouble. May%3 help us to bear our own. But yc baby's safe now. How can I tell mine ever will be?" She spoke the last words In such tone of hopeless sadness that Dorot lifted up her head and looked at her. "Where is Francis?" Mrs. Penrose asked. "He is not coming back tonight," replied Dorothy softly, and then for the first time she saw Malcom Kirk  lng there by the fireplace. "Do you thUik we two can help to 'bring t» the kingdom,' as you sayt" The baby opened his eyes, looked up Into Malcom Kirk's gaunt, agonized countenance, and a faint light went over its face. lost In Conrad. They passed out of the church with the same feeling deep in their souls. Their hearts kindled at their opportunity. And in the infinite places of the heavenly hosts, good and. evil, God and the devil noted the entrance of these two children of light Into that lawless, un-Chrlstian town of 25 years ago, and from what at once began to be there it seemed within the reach of a tremendous reality that heaven hell began to struggle for ft supremacy marked by events which leave their record in the book of life with startling clearness. For these two Christians had entered the arena of the great human battle for victory over the world, and the two greatest forces in the universe now began to test their powers as they had never yet been tested In that place. She took an eager step toward him and then suddenly stopped, while het face 'glowed rosy red In the candlelight. As for Malcom Kirk, he stood very erect and still, but out of his eyes shone the lover's look as he faced the woman of his heart's longing. He did not try to conceal it, and Dorothy knew as well as If be had §£$keu It aloud that be said, "J love you, Dorothy Gilbert, and I cannot do my life yrork best without you." Mrs. Penrose saw that look also and respected ft, "You are neither of you children,' she finally said to Dorothy, with a sail smile. "You know your own minds by this time, I want you to be married here in this house, of course. It seems very sudden. But I dptft blame Mr. Kirk." "It's quite a long story," said Kirk, "but pardon me, Mrs. Penrose, if I don't try to tell now. {q teM Jou why l am herds'. I lovo your niece, nd I am going to ask her to be my wife," "Malcom, oh, Malcom!" cried Dorothy. "I can't endure It!" He rang the bell with a tremor at heart that instantly bounded Into fever when Dorothy herself opened the door. It was the first protest that had escaped her. Like him, the presence of this friend from the old loved place In the east had stirred her heart, and even as she cried aloud in her anguish tbe pent up tears came, and she cried In sobs that rent her husband'B heart even more than the baby's sad smile. took up his pen and dipped It In the Ink and then sat there, thinking, thinklng, of his recalled every little look, its smile, Its new habits, added day by day. His heart swelled at the thought of all that he had dreamed for his boy's future. Was God good? Was it true, this gospel of comfort he had been preaching these three years? Why, then, was he not comforted? The baby had died Thursday night He stood there In the light of the porch, and his trepidation flld: fcthder hi« observing thdt Dorothy looked very pale and even as if Bhe had been crying. "O? fituwe not," said Malcom Kirk decidedly as he looked Dorothy In the face. CHAPTER VI. "WHOM GOD HATH JOIKED TOOETHKB UtT "Won't you come in, Mr. Kirk? I am very glad to see yon," said Dorothy. She spoke so easily, so kindly, that he recovered hia self possession at once and went into the parlor and sat down; wondering" at -the commonplace details of Ida meeting with the one woihan in all the world to him.' -'•*"D»- VYou will fexcOise' me tot coming fo soon after your return?" ho said 8ln£ ''Certainly," replied Dorothy, ami}? U»g, "Would you Uke to see father?" . "No," said Malcom Kirk, "I oame to see you." It was so evidently true that Dorothy could say nothing for a moment There was an awkward alienee. She broke It by saying: NO MAN PUT ASUNDER." So It came RttQUt that a month later the prudent of the seminary faculty v'ame down to Beverly one morning, and Dorothy and Malcom Kirk were married in the presence of a very few of Dorothy'% Qerinon friends and two of Kirk's classmates who had been settled over parishes near Boston. Kirk had made all his preparations for leaving. A few days before he was married the president of the faculty bad surprised him with the announcement that the sales of his pamphlet had been set aside by the publishers for the benefit of the seminary, but bjf unanimous consent tbe entire amount, something over f2Qft was now at Kirk's disposal. Malcom Kfrk was not going to be a penniless bridegroom In any case. He had already received since his return from abroad several checks for writing he had done during his last year In tbe seminary and While In London. 80 be was able to start toward the new home with much courage and tbe knowledge that Dorothy would not miss too many of tbe old luxuries. He had come directly to. htot Subject feeling that It was so.' MM. Penrose looked at kith in tbe greatest astonishmentWilson choked as he rose to go and said: "Kirk, may God bless and help you at this time. I would stay and watch with you or help in any way"— Tbe servant entered and announced that tea was rejijly, and Malcom Kirk found himself shaking hands with Dorothy and saying some very common thing about being glad to meet her, A few minutes later he found himself at the table with Dorothy and her aunt. He ate and talked at first with a repressed excitement that gradually became a source of eloquent conversation. No one asked any more questions about Francis Raleigh. It is certain that Mrs. Penrose and Malcom Kirk understood that he had pleaded his suit again with Dorothy and had again been unsuccessful. "You— love — Dorothy?" she said slowly. "No; it will not be necessary. The neighbors and church people have been very kind to us. No one can do any Three days now, and yet the world expected him to go on with his work, write sermons, make calls, attend to the thousand little details that must be remembered or some one would notice and begin to complain. How could be take up the burden of life and carry it? How could he regain his old enthusiasm or help Dorothy? Were they not both smitten to the dust by this heart loss? He found himself saying all this and even half fearfully Mfcing himself if Dorothy had not made a mistake to share her life with him. What could he offer her? What career was possible for them now in thfo little place? They found Mr. Gilbert lying on the Hoot nncoruciotu. again. He could leave Dorotby witn her aunt who was alone' much of tli« time and needed her at present  himself struggle Into place again with honor untarnished and the good name of the firm free from commercial stain. "Yes," replied simply. "I have lqved $»er for four years. Ever since I entered the seminary, in fact" more." Mrs. Penrose sat still find looked more keenly at the awkward, homely figure In her reception room. She was a woman of great quicknesa of perception. To do her justice she had pre* eminently a large fund of fairness and a sense of Justice which came to her through a long line of pilgrim ancestors. She saw In the man who had juBt declared his love for her niece so abruptly something more than § common average man. There was a look In hla eye that spoke'to Umltleis endttr&tice, kn'd iiis voice was of an unusual quality, very nearly If not quite equal to a rare gift of music or art' CHAPTER VII. THE OF DEATH. Nearly three years after Malcom Kirk and his wife had made their propose In the little Home Missionary church of Conrad, one evening in September, a stranger stepped out of the east bound Chicago express upon the platform at Conrad and Inquired for the residence of the Rev. Malcom Kirk. He went away to the hotel, promising to come In the morning to Inquire, and the night grew on for Malcom and Dorothy. The doctor came in, a few of the most Intimate church members also, but no one could do any more, and Malcom Kirk held the baby with a tenderness that relieved its suffering, for they had not been able to place its body in a restful position on a bed, and it had grown used to Its cradle of long, strong arms. So the honest sturdy publisher thought as he sat at his desk with his papers before him. Then suddenly, just a little after Dorotby bad ceased to play, he felt a new and awful pain seize him, he reeled in his cbalr, vainly tried to call out for help and sank unconscious to the floor. "I have read your pamphlet describ- "She has him his answer," said Klrlc to. himself, and there was the first positive hope in bis heart that he had ddred to feel. He had never appeared to such advantage, lira. Penrose, experienced as she was \i. P# society and familiar With some of the most brilliant men and women, felt a positive charm In Kirk's voice and manner. His awkwardness for awhile was subordinate to his higher gifta. ing the life of the people on the continent In the cities. I thank you, not for the pleasure, but for the pate It gav^ me. ■ ..... . . C "He lives up by the church," said the man to whom the question was put "Come out to the end of the platform and I'll show you." "Don't say that!" she salt tears flowed down her fa They were merciful tears. : The next few days were days of great anxiety to Malcom Kirk- He could see the doctor's carrlAge' before tbe :Gllbert house every (horning. One morning he saw the doctor go up the steps with another m»u irho entered With hlizj. Tt4j, fjoctot'g 'iutrrtage remained lp front of the bouse that da? until noon- In the afternoon Kirk call' ed to inqnlre, and the servant came eut at the back porch and told him Mr. Gilbert had been sinking rapidly. A celebrated physician from Boston had beeu in consultation, and he said there was little hope. It was toward morning, when no one was In the room, except Malcota and Dorothy, that the baby died. It seemed to these two as they watched It go that their hearts broke, and the world turned black and empty before them when the last breath was drawn by that frail, trembling body. For a little while Malcom held him. Then -be laid the body down on a couch, and. kneeling there with his arms about hia wife, he joined with h.er in a moment of unspeakable anguish for the death of their firstborn. The Ink had dried on his pen, and he sat there holding it, unable to write a word. Dorothy had gone out to the well, and when he missed her step in the kitchen and glanced out of the window to see her she was sitting on a bench be had built under the cottonwood in the yard, the only tree on the * He looked at her gratefully. He understood exactly what ahe meant T}ie Opening had been made for talk along the lines of hie deepest life, and before k$ew just tMjff it bad  wrought atxrat he was iellittg1»er some of the experiences of his year abroad, things he bad told to no one else and bad not even been able to put into bis The stranger followed, and the man pointed up the street where the tower of the little church could be seen. |0. She rose and gvpy to the  dpw and looked far down the beach. Then she turned toward Malcom Kirk *nd said with wme eurpnasi*: "You'll find him in, the parsonage close by at the Tight of the ehurch." But Dorothy, once she had given her heart to Malcom Kirk and said to blm, that she would share his life, entered upon a new and contented experience, such as ft) her luxurious life she fad never before felt It la perfectly true that she loved blm without condition. She put her hand In hlB with the trustful confidence of a child, and It Is no exaggeration to say that she would have been happy with him anywhere, rich or poor, famous or obscure, successful or defeated. Th$ stranger thanked him aud started down the platform steps, when the man called after him: "What you have so suddenly told me, Mr. Kirk, is, I need not say, a complete surprise to me. I suppose you know that Mr. Raleigh is a lover of Dorothy?" place. She had left her pall at the well and sat there looking off toward the little knoll which he had shut out of his sight when he drew down his curtain. Mr. Penrose wag In New York on business. Malcom Kirk learned afterward some things In bis history and why John CUlbert been allowed to great tiuaucial losses without £elp from bis own sister, who to a large extent had been powerless to per»U4de hw husband to come to her brother's aid. But she was absorbed tonight In the thought of Dorothy. He knew that a crisis In his life had come. report All the time be felt tbe mlnla- "They're having trouble at the minister's house. I thought if you didn't know I ought to tell you. They have a very sick baby there." ture in his pocket. But be seemed to fight against the knowledge that he must give it up. "No more than I am," said Malcom Kirk qolcUjy • J "*•' 1 *1 you know hp is an plCl friend of the family and that Mr- Gilbert favored his suit?" The sun came up dry and red, the heat of another day began to pour into the little room, and It seemed to the bereaved parents as If the earth was a great, dry, burned out wilderness. The neighbors called. Wilson came, and his presence and silent sympathy were a blessing to Malcom and PoJCothy But when, later In the day, the baby had been laid 1q the little coffin and placed in the center of the room with a bunch of white geranluma on its breast brought in by the members ol Dorothy's primary (Sunday school class Dorothy laid her head down on the table beside the casket, and her grief was very, very great Malcom stood beside her, looking hungrily at bis baby's face, and the people 1q the little room quietly went out and left them alone for $while. He sat down with a groan, and for a moment the world seemed utterly empty and useless to him. He bad sat there for a long time, feeling all the while that his place was by his wife's side to comfort her, but hesitating for the first time since their marriage as to the right thing to do or say, when a knock at the door roused him. He knew some one must have knocked several times. He went through the sitting room and opened the door. 5 The stranger paused and looked uncertainly at the man. As for Dorothy, she experienced a feeMng «f exhilaration lln her talk with tills man. She was slcl{ of the emptjjf pothfpgsshe had teep fcearlpg all summer, The recent experience of hep father's failure also bad excited her. There was much In everything that pervaded Malcom Kirk's life work to attract her at the present moment flrjt passed aq sleepJeM night;'and uex\ riaorni'ng as he iookeq across the campus he knew that the woman be ioved best was alone with her grief, He eould see the wreath of flower* on the door, end it told him at once that Jobu Gilbert bad passed on, never more to be vexed with the struggle of the life that now is on the earth. "I won't go there, then, If I ought not. J one. of Mr. Kirk's old seminary classmates. I stopped off on my way home from Colorado, where I have beeu taking my vacation. Perhaps 1 had better not call there tonight. I dldut know of bis trouble. Do you know how sick the baby is?" "That has nothing to do with my love for ber," said Malcom Kirk softly. The train whirled them ah Into the went. Into the land of the prairies tnto the land of new things, of thoQQ yague possibilities that alw&ye go with an ufitrled community, And Dorothy ?yv*r? tyqmeui felt more and more content. Malcom Kirk satisfied her Ideals. His noble nature was continually revealing to her new phases of his Cbft* tlan purpose. He enthusiasm, and he w«n the only man who had ever Veen able to kindle hers. The thought that they were to work together her with a heavenly delight, fche re-, lolced in his fels inanhood, hi* Inward life. Mrs. Peurose smiled slightly. Then she frowned and looked somewhat anxiously at him. After tea they went into the reception room again. Mrs. Penrose staid for half an hour and Uieu suddenly went out, and Do&thy and Malcom fCtrlr We're Ife'ft alone. It must have been nearly an hour that they had beep talking, she  lug questions and be replying, and every minute grew Increasingly full 6t interest'to hrtvwhen be suddenly stop- I$d MD fce bad done' £h$t evening $ mm *««- do you feel as If you could play something?**"What do you expect to do?" she asked somewhat yaguely. — • ' •*i' *'l am going to ask pjorothy Gilbert to 6e my wife." ' "No. It's serious. The doctor has been there nearly all day" The strange? hesitated and finally moved on toward the parsonage. The week following was one of the most trying that Malconi Kirk eter knew. The funeral of John Gilbert was held In the setnlftirjf' Clikpel am} attended by the professors fifld tqwqq? people generally, Dorothy's aunt was with ber. Kirk bad no opportunity to see Dorothy and be to her the comfort he longed to be. It was agony to bim after the funeral was over to think that there across the campus lp tlw great bouse was the woman he loved passing through a great sorrow, and he had tid rtght tb go to' her and share that sorrqw w|th her. He felt as if be could pot break Ip on her grief to spe*k even of his love- &o the days passed restlessly for him, and be tried to work on bis report, but made very little real progress. He laid the miniature on his table and tried to write with the face looking up at him, but he made no progress at all then, apd the close of the fouud him walking his room in great uncertainty of heart and mind. ' C - . C i ' He was fully aware whole future }iig VJv W«rk would be shap W by the events of the next few minutes, but he had never felt more a Christian than now. There was a positive religious excitement of the highest, purest,'noblest character in all the thought of his love for Dorothy. There always had been. He felt that it Was ho cheap or Silly' on Shallow sentiment that moveq him to think oif lier as of W' beiftg & tt\e world. There had not been a night of bis life since be began to love her when he bad failed to 8peak her name In a prayer. He knew that his Christian faith was sanctified and beautified by this human love. A little old woman stood close up to the door, and a farm wagon and horse were out In front of the fence. "If she loves you?" said Mrs. Peftrose, a little jjrinilF, "Of course, if sbe loves me," replied Malcom Kirk simply. "I will simply stop and inquire tit the bouse and then go to tbe hotel," he said to himself. "You don't remember me, Mr. Kirk?" said the little woman In a voice so tfeln and feeble that Malcom was Instantly reminded of a call he bad made In the spring on a family living on what was called *The Forks," eight miles from Cearad, in a very desolate ravine between two ridges of land that formed almost the only hill country for miles around. £ "Oh, Mr*. Kirk, may God help you! give met" which had been fast bound within There was silence in the room. A servant came In quietly and lighted two long candles on the mantel, TUo dusk and the candlelight blended together softly, and Malcom Iprk looked out of. hte slde 'of thfe rixtm at Dorothy's aunt with a somewhat pale face, calm, however, and fully self possessed- Even Francis Baleigh. with all his inherited instincts toward geutlemanly habits, was not equal to Malcom Kirk during a supreme crisis. When he knocked at the little parsonage, Dorothy herself opened the door. He was simply battling for time, and be was In a condition where be could not run the risk of speaking something be ought not. The longer he staid the deeper he knew his heart longed for pocofhy Gilbert He felt that wblle Abe was playing be might'measure bis duty and his inclination better. She was never able to tell herself Why Sbe played as she did. She began with the old German Lurelei, "Ich weiss nicht was soil es bedeuten, dass Ich so traurig bin" ("I know not bow it is that I am so sad"), and then before ■be could control her fingers or ber thought she had passed on to the 'traumerel, which Kirk had asked her fco ptaty befofe. "• 1 : * »:'• ' ' ' When'she finished, sbe hardly knew Jjer own feelings. When Sbe turned fibout lie was standing, and {be tnlnlaturp in bis band. ''I promised to return It when I came back." He spoke with great slmpllci. ty and, as his fashion always was, looked straight In her face like a man who is not ashamed or afraid. "No one but myself has seen It The keeping of it has not"— "This is Mrs. Kirk? I am Mr. Wilson, one of Mr. Kirk's classmates at Hermon. You remember me? I was on my way from Colorado and stopped off to see him. I only heard of the Illness of your baby, J"— as If It would burst, felt the first r ■he had known. God was leading She still did not know that what : com had experienced had come to $Uso. But the lonely, stricken wo the little study, representing n.Vb human sorrow of a kind neither Dorothy nor Malcom knew, touched her. She also was able tu to her husband years afterward she felt as If the coming of that o burden Into their own heavy hea lives was a part of the loving Fati plan for their victory In overcon the world, the world of what m have grown to be a very Selfish son cUy Wilson read the funeral service and prayed at the house, and after the simple service a little company went with Malcom and Dorothy to the cemetery just on the edge of the town, and the baby was buried there, 9$d these children of the All Father went back to the little parsonage. As for Malcom Kirk, be was transformed by all that he now possessed. His poor Home Missionary church became to his thought a gigantic engine of power, with this glorious woman now his wife, who was to be by Li* side henceforth. He trebled at the extent of such love and consecrated it every moment t;o the In fin lie eternal}' life that belongs both to this worlfl $nd that which Is to come- They reached Journey's end at the close of a day and entered the town by nigiit. There was quite a little gathering at the station, curious to see the new minister, and the superintendent himself, who happened that Week to be in that part of the state, was present to welcome anCV Introduce them to * Mttle handful of their parishioners. "Yes, I do," he replied., "It Is Mrs. Barton, Isn't It?' "Come in. Mr. Wilson. I know Malcom will want to see you," she said, and he entered with some reluctance to Intrude at such a \irne, but her manner assured hint that bia presence was grateful to them. The woman's face lighted up faintly. "Yes, and I'm to trouble, great trouble, Mr- Kirk, and I want you to help me." Mrs. Penrose went over to the window again. Then she returned and took a Beat nearer Malcom Kirk. He rose and went over near her. He had the miniature in his hand- When he spoke, It was In great simplicity,' but tn great'(Urebtneiis. 1 *"Ydu know what t have come for. You knoW that V love yon wholly. "Jfou know what my life will be, You know thpt I poor- Dorothy, qan ru share such a life with me? Must give this back, or may I keep it always?"It was a great blessing to them at this time that Wilson was with them He, seeing how they clung to his presence. staid over Sunday and preached for Malcom. It was during this stay that h£ learned something of what Malcom and Dorothy bad been doing. A short extract from a letter written by him to his wife In the east will show us something of the first three year? ot Malcom Kirk and his wife's attempt to make good their pledge to help redeem the lives of the people of Conrad: Malcom stared at the shabby, dusty, wornout figure, and instantly It flashed Into him that she had probably not heard yet that his baby was dead. Her next words told him that was the fact Three years hud made some changes in Dorothy. She was very beautiful still, and there was something more in the face which God's children always have after trial and suffering have purged the life within. noted in a glance the simple furnishings of the room, the unmistakable sign of economy. "Of course after what yop b*v£ told me, Mr. Kirk, It will see tbd awkwardness of the''situation—It will be embarrassing for you ' and Mr,' Balelgh to mpet;'.'- '' "Why?" MfUcom Klpfe. "Well, It will- won't itr site asked in some slight Irritation. "I've come straight here from home. My boy, Mr. Kirk, have you seen him? He left the farm Saturday with the double team and a load of bay. I haven't seen him since. I know he Is In some saloon, drinking or drunk, and the money for the hay all spent Oh, Mr- Kirk, for God's sake help me to find him and get him home again! For the love of your own baby that you expect to grow up Into a good Christian man to comfort and bless you help, me to get my boy out of this hell and save him, for mjiD heart is broken when I think of how he was once as innocent and happy as your own baby." What happened, all that was Bald In that little study room after that is not easy to tell; but when Mrs. Barton went out Malcom Kirk went with her. Dorothy went into her own little room and prayed, and there was that In her prayer that revealed to her the loving Father. For the first time she saw her baby surrounded by the Infinite love, _ and when she came back to her work In the kitchen there were hope, immortal hope, and a large measure of the peace of Christ In her heart Malcom Kirk got into the farm wagon with Mrs. Barton, and they drove down to the main business street of pb Monday the week following be qbliged to gp down to Boston tg ponsujt spiqe In Settlement work," and wi»en he came back the next day the Gilbert bouse was closed, and Dorothy and her aunt had gone to Beverly. •" He was struck also with the profound atmosphere of the first great trouble that had come Into this woman'* home. It was so positive that he felt linable to say anything commonplace by way of sympathy. "I don't think so. I have nothing to be embarrassed about" She was sitting with her face partly in shadow, and she slowly rose and turned and faced him. Like all $irbt who dream of lovers, ahe had her dreams, her ideals, tier Imaginings. $She toOked up at him' now, and the blood rushed. Impetuously tnrough hlru S3 he saw the beginning of her qnsweihe bad learned {o hlin dortng l»la absence ftbruad, (lur'og her recent during the days that followed her bereavement. It was not so sudden as it might seem, for Dorothy bad learned when Raleigh spoke to her that afternoon that the greatest reason why she could not love him was because she already loved Malcom Kirk. So she gave him th$n and there what he asked. Ah, Malcom Kirk, not this side of heavenwlli you know the' powet of that flood that lifted your heart and all it contained when you first heard the woman you my, as she lifted her face. to, yours; "Yes, 1 Will share your' life with you. Yes, J love yoti.". ' * Two hours later Maloom Kirk wenj out into the starry night pod gown on the sea and with the freshness pf the sea breeze blowlug aiKiut hi* uncovered head he thanked God for the precious, priceless gift of this woman's heart. They had had much to say, as true lovers always have. Always they had come back to the undying theme of their love for each other, "She loves me!" he kept sayiug to himself. And the wave$ and tbe'hlgiit Wind and the stars ami the harbor tights and the pines near the beach all joined in tbe same soug. He walked up aud down the sands until the early morning. He found his face wet once with tears. He ran across a long strip of beach exultant and frtW one of his reveries to'flild. himself knee' d&ep'fn whter, for the tide was coming ill, abd he knew nothing of tides, only of the one that bad risen in his own spirit. Mrs. Penrose was silent again. After the lap?- of a few moments she said: "I ' «*e not asked you what your prosfrets are, Mr. Kirk. Pardon me If I seem abrupt put you pave set me the ekample. J' am the nearest relative Dorothy has now since my brother's death.' She has been accustomed all her life to the comforts of Yrealth- Tp such £pmforu» qs these.1'" Her glance swept the room carelessly, but with studied meaning. "May I ask what you can offer Dorothy In case"— There was a parsonage, a furnished bouse of five rooms, close by tlM* church. A supper was ready for them. A little company came la afterward to greet them, and the people seemed to be truly glad to see them. The sight of Dorothy's beauty astonished them all. She was a little amused at the evident look of disappointment with which every one first saw her husband. "I cannot tell you what a profound sense of sympathy I have felt for my old classmate and his wife during their great trouble, but I a in simply astonished to find hovf great a work they have done la the three years they have been here. This is a place of abont 2,000 people. It Is having a boom at the present time. It was the very next day that Kirk saw in a Boston paper the name of Prancis Raleigh, arrived a few days before from Liverpool on the Cephaionla. 'Looking1 otter! the (columns a ilttle farther down, be Saw In the lo£al news from Beverly this statement; In the next room Malcom Kirk was walking up and down with his baby in his arms. The day had been very hot, and the upper chambers of the little house were stifling. "He pardly dared to triwt himself to safer *bat lay wftliln 'hlr beah.Id truth he-knew well enough that he would be a far different man for the feat of )i1b days It he Could only have jjils wupKu fur Jits jylie, puf "at that pioraent fie felt asiif such a possibility fras too remote for eveq thought. "Mt. Francis Ualefgh, the Herroorj recently ftfriveil a*year's study abroad, is the guest of Mrs. Art thpf Penrose, pistei? of the late John OUbert," The Rey. George Wll«on will never forget that sight this side the deathless paradise that all of the redeemed shall "The agitation over the saloon Is Increasing, and I am told by Kirk and others that things are nearlng a crisis and in all likelihood the next legislature will pass a prohibitory amendment The liquor men laugh at this probability and seout the idea that such a law can ever be passed. There are ten saloons here in Conrad and all apparently flourishing. Among other things that the whisky element has attempted during Kirk's stay here has been to antagonize the business men in his church against Kirk with some success. Kirk's wife has been a great help tQ bin*. I think I never knew a more happy union of workers in all my life. She has been the organist and the leader in Sunday school work, and her social influence in the town is very strong. The church membership, has grown from forty odd to over a hunr dred, and Kirk lias managed to gain a hold on a large group of young men, 1 think largely on account of their ad miration for his unusual muscular development. I thiuk It Is probably true from what I feel and hear that already the influence of Kirk and his wtfe and their little church in this wild western town is the strongest Influence that ever entered the place. They are very much broken up by the loss of their baby. It has been a tremendous disappointment to them- I am very anxious for them, as 1 think of what the result may be on their future work. The pay of a Home Missionary out here Is small, and for some reason Kirk has not been able to make much with his writing. I cannot help asking myself how the loss of their baby will affect their whole work here. Mrs. Kirk seems to be stunned by the blow. I shall leave here Monday, and my greatest regret is that I cannot be of more help to my old classmate. He is at a crisis in his aud everything d«- Conrad. "Now, Mrs. Barton," Malcom had said, 'if yon will wait outside Til go Into the saloons and see if I can find your boy. While I'm looking you might question passersby and ask them If they have seen the hay wagon and horses anywhere." "When they know him, they will love him," she said to herself, with n.nf%V: tering trust In his victory them." She came out on the porch with hi in §fter all the members had gone away, and tftgether they tried to get some idea of the place which was to bp their home. The night scarry and the prairie vastttoo* Impressive to them. They iD»d never either of them Uved outside of a hill country. THE BEST SOLACE FOB OUB OWN GRIEF IS CHAPTER VIII. TO LIGHTEN THE SORROWS OF OTHERS. "In case she becomes my wife?" said Ma loom Kirk, completing the sentence. For a few moments M&lcom Kirk experienced a feeling of anguish on bis own account that shut out entirely this other forlorn and bleeding heart. Then there sprang up in his soul a most tremendous and overpowering revolution Of feeling. He said to a very dear friend several years afterward that as he stood there on the threshold of his parsonage, with the hot, dusty glare of that withering day smiting him and the figure of that old woman on the doorstep, he knew that perhaps the most Important event in his own inner experience was taking place. For this appeal for help, thlB cry to him to share a burden while his own seemed greater than he could bear, revealed to Ulm the Christ life In our human lives and the glory of overcoming the world for his sake. Certain it is that as Maleom Kirk stood there that morning his soul felt the touch of a healing and beneficent love, and he looked at his life again as worth while, and then began already to know that the fire of his own sorrow was destined to make him more serviceable to others. He hftd walked to the mantel gpd was Rbtwt to put the wiuiature down in the place where it had been when a aound in the library startled them both. It was a sound as of some one falling heavily. That was all, but It roused Malcom Kirk to instant action. He knew with all the vigor and intensity of his deep, honest nature that his love for Dorothy Gilbert was now the largest part of hi° life. Ho uuuauuVKieu Uis time ant} strength e» the winiatty.' He did not deceive himself. He knew what such a consecration meant He faced, open eyed, the entire meaning of a minister's career in a home missionary church "oqt we*t" 1 - "Yes, in case she becomes your wife." His face had grown a little paler, and the muscles around hie 1**4 stiffened white Mrs. Penrose was speftkinjf. But lie observed her calmly enough. " ' ' She thanked him gratefully, and he noted that even in the burning sun her thin, sorrowful figure trembled and shivered, and her lips quivered as If she were cold. His compassion for her "Father!" Dorothy l(i  ■pri fJUe tbttj tiie hall, but 4wtft «» (be Wa» Malcotn Kirk' was before ber. Bveo M he leapedforward he was conscious that he held the miniature still, fcnd before be reached the library he had mechanically put it Into Its old jesting place toj his pocket. ' * Tbey foflnd Mr. Gilbert- lying on the floor unconscious. Dorothy  pq Cne aide of the txxjy, Malcom Kirlt 9D {he pthpr, (mq for ft moment thftf* a wild fear in Dorothy's heart that ber father bftii to aome way ItiUed bim- JHrtl. HI# builafws failure had been tbe great humiliation of bla life. . Kirk pat her mind at rest "He has bad a shock or stroke of ■ome kind." He lifted the body up, placed It on tbe lounge and  fa* pdt of the bouee fij tbe aoiHor {lv'fd oply § few doors a*pay. ■D ' ' ■■ When be came, he pronounced tbe case serious, but trare Dorothy hope. Malcom Kirk came back, but in the excitement be could do nothing but express his sympathy and finally go bftck to his room after the  wife and some others bad eorue io to itMy #ltfi Dorothy for the night ' 8 ' ' Mr. Gilbert had been a typicai New Enplabd business man of the old. School. When his failure came and be bad begun to recover from the first ftfeet of tbe blow, be bad bo thought gt MJltg C?»urae .but to pay dollar "I can offer ber a home and comforts. I have a definite position. I do not need to say that J am My life Jq the Home Missionary fteldto w'liicli \ am going will be full of hardships. My wife 'share theuq with me. f ought perhaps to say"—be spoke with tbe Prat hesitation lie bad yet sbown—"that I have « possible source of Income In my pen. | expect to earn hs muph 8 a my salary by that ttte&ns. I have once or twice done that luring my college and seminary course." "'How large did you say tb® tWh was, Malcom?" "About people, so the superintendent says." "How mauy church members are there?" But looking at It al\ through dis passibnate eyes he said as he walked his study: '.'She must fhoose betweenj him and me. I pannot go to my work without speaking tp her. My love foj ber 1$ honest and true, and if God grant that she can love me ftftd pb&FV »y life with mo"-— Is "Fifty-seven on the roll. About 40 living here," "Cau't we go over and look into the church? I am curious to see it," said Dorothy. She spoke in such a glad, happy voice that Malcom Kirk, as he stood there with his arm about her, said, "'You are happy, Uttle woman, aren't you?" He left the rest unspoken, and, going back to his desk, he sat down, trembling a little as he put bis face lu his hands and prayed that the hunger of his heart might be He had made ap jila'nqiod to act aiid act quickly, and once be had decided oil bis course be was free from alt doubtas to its wisdom. "So that the most you can offer my niece would be $1,200 or fl.pOC* year V askfC\ Mr$. lylth thy nearest approach to sharpness. TO "Can you ask?" she replied, and he was satisfied. One of the trustees had left a church key with him. They, walked across the parsonage *ardi taking a lamp from the house with them, and together they went In. "By no means, madam!" paid Maicom Kirk, aud his face glowed with the eloquence of his answer. "This is not the most I can offer her. The most I can offer is the love I bear her, and all the money In the world without that would be very little to offer." ;i What he actually did the next minute after all this was to ask Mrs. Barton to come into the house. He took her into his study, a»d then after a single moment of hesitation he went out into the back yard to Dorothy. It was the first time he tw".d hvo&en down (n the prcseuae 9) DoroLhy, He took the afternoon train for Bev erly and reached the place before dusk. Mrs. Penrose lived in one of the handsome summer villas near the sea- The wboie place smote Kirk as with a' blow1 aimed at his poverty, Ms obscurH ty, hi# whole futurte. And yet be said to himself as he walked up the steps that there was something In bis life which money and all its attendant ele gance couW »MDt bu*. and be  that Dorothy Gilbert somehow, if she •fee laved MX one eooagb. would feel , _ —^ It was a small room with seats for about 150. A small classroom in the rear and a choir railing in front of tl\e organ, which was in a little recess at one side of the platform,. some time enjoy. When Mak'om Kirk turned and came toward the door where his wife and Wilson were stand \ng, his classmate saw ou his face a fcDok of sufferiug which the strong, homely, marked features emphasized. "He's right about that," Mrs. Penrose spoke to herself softly. Malcom Kirk did not hear what she said, but then at that time he did not know her history nor the Inner emptiness of her unloved married life She was still sitting on the bench, dry eyed and oblivious of everything around her, living over the last three days. Malcom came up and put his hand on her shoulder. But he drew back out of the water, laughing, j»nd Anally found his way toD the Inn {town by the pier where he fiad breakfasted. But what he ate or at« anything was probably u to him; at least he was not to give Dorothy satisfactory answers when he cam* back, to the house. Maicoui Kirk set the lamp down oq the pulpit and, with his wife, stood looking over the room. "My dear," said Dorothy, nestling up close to him, "do you think we two can help to 'bring in the kingdom,' as you say, into this town?" For three weeks he had hardly closed his eyes. He had prayed, his wife beside him, every night on his knees by the little crib that their firstborn son might be spared to them. But tonight, as the babx lav la his arms, be knew that the There was sileuce again In the room. The two candles on the mantel were distinct and clear now as the dusk had akrahi -—_  "Dear," he said very gently, "will you come with me into the house? There is some one there who has come to see me—to see us both." Malcom Kirk looked at the room, at his pulpit where he waa_to greack.and u m D. A. She did not know what he mea,at ag