"It certainly will, Nance. But perhaps not many of them will be there."
"You will go, daddy, will you not?" Nance asked. "I don't see how I can play alone. If you are there I shall not mind it one bit."
"Nance?" and Martin looked straight into the maiden's eyes as he uttered her name.
"Yes, daddy."
"I want you to promise me two things."
"Yes, daddy."
"You are never again to ask me to go to any service across the river, neither are you to inquire as to the reason why I wish you to promise me this."
"Yes, daddy, I promise," was the faltering response.
"That's good. Now don't forget, little one."
Martin's mind was now doubly agitated. He became exceedingly restless, and spent most of his time out on the hills. Here, and alone, he could brood over the strange events which had come so recently into his life. Besides the deep stirring of his heart, owing to Beryl's arrival, he was face to face with the question of the service to be held at the hospital Sunday night. His thoughts went back to the days when he would have looked forward with joy for the time to arrive when he could take part in the beautiful service of the Church to which he had once belonged. But now an outcast, not only by his bishop, but also by his own conscience, the punishment was almost more than he could endure. How truly did he understand the words of the aged bishop. He had laughed scornfully at them then, little realising how terribly true they were, and how the day would come when their fulfilment would give him such intense mental agony.