"She does not know of our arrival. I will go into the hall and touch the bell."
"Oh! excuse me, sir. I thought Miss Bland was in the drawing-room. I will tell her now," said the servant.
Could this gentle, dignified woman be the same whose harsh, hard tones were still lingering in their ears?
Impossible! thought the elder man. Surely he must be in a dreadful, dreadful dream. Not so David; he clearly understood it all, and felt truly thankful that the blundering servant had enabled him to get this "peep behind the scenes."
The meeting was over, and they were just leaving the church, when:
"Please, sir, tell me where I can find the preacher or doctor—and I've forgot which—maybe both. They frightened me so when they hurried me off!" said a boy, running up to them.
"Here, my lad—what is it?"
"Mr. Preacher, please come with me. There is a young woman very ill—maybe dying. They sent me for somebody, and I can't remember; but please run, sir!"
"I will go. Excuse me, Miss Bland; father will take charge of you."
And he followed, with hasty steps, the running boy.