“H’m!” said the minister thoughtfully, “the Lord never makes a mistake in His dates. He meant this should all come about for His glory. Where was that written from, Mrs. Summers?”
“Why, it’s Woods’ Corners! That’s not far away! To think he has been there so near, all this time!”
“How far is that?” asked Murray gravely.
“Between twenty and twenty-five miles,” said the minister. “He will have thought it strange that none of his father’s old friends came over to see him. Did you never get any word from him before, Mrs. Summers? He says his nurse wrote to you.”
“Nothing at all,” said Mrs. Summers thoughtfully.
“I must go at once!” said Murray, rising hastily. “You will excuse me, I know. There is no time to waste to make this thing right. Something might happen to stop me!”
“You must have your dinner first!” said Mrs. Summers, hurrying toward the kitchen. “Doctor Harrison, you would better stay here and eat dinner with us. Just telephone your wife that I’ve kept you.”
But Murray was at the door already.
“Wait, young brother,” said the minister, placing a detaining hand on his arm. “You’ve a duty here yet not finished, I take it. You’ve a Sunday-school class to teach in a few minutes, and it is a very critical time for those boys. They will have heard of your confession this morning, and their hearts will be very impressionable.”
“Doctor Harrison, I can’t teach a Sunday-school class. I never did teach! They taught me! You surely would not have me go before them again, now that they know what a fake I am! I have nothing to teach them!”