Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-02-16

as sad. Once or twice be saw her glance at
Mr.. Davies, who was sitting opposite, the
solitary occupant of an enormous pew, and
he thought that there was apprehension in
her look. But Mr.. Davies did not return
the glance. To judge from his appearance
nothing was troubling his mind.
Indeed, Geofrey, studying him in the
same way that he inEtinctively studied
everybody whom he met, thought that he
had never seen a man who looked quite so
oxlike and absolutely comfortable. And
yet he never was more completely at fault.
The man seemed stoIid and cold indeed, but
1t was the coldness of volcano. His heart
was afre. All the human forces in him, all
the energies of his sturdy life, had concer-
trated themselves in a single passion for the
woman who was SO near and yet so far from
him. He had never drawn upon the store,
had never frittered mis- heart away. This
woman, strange and unusual as it may
seem, was absolutely the first whose glance
or voice had ever stirred his blood.
His passion for her had grown slowly;
for years it had been growing, ever
since the gray-eyed girl on the brink of
womanhood had conducted him to his castle
home. Tt was no fancy, no light desire to
pass with the year which brought it. Owen
had little Imagination, that soil from which
loves spring with the rank swiftness of a
tropic bloom to fade at the first chill breath
of change. His passion was an unalterable
fact. It was rooted like an oak on our stiff
English soil, its fbers wrapped his heart
and shot his being through, and If so strong
a gale should rise that it must fall, then he,
too, would be overthrow.
For years now he had thought of little
else than Beatrice. To win her he would
have given all his wealth, aye, thrice over,
if that were possible. To win her, to know
her his BY right and his alone, ahI that
would be heaveni His blood quivered and
his mind grew dim yhep he thought Of it.
What would it be to see her standing by him
as she stood now. and know that she was
his wifel There is no form Of passion more
terrible than this. Its very earthiness
makes it awful.
The service wenton last Mr.. Granger
mounted the pulpit and began to read his
sermon, OF which the text was, "But of
these three the greatest n charity" Geof-
frey noticed that he bungled over some of
the words, then suddenly remembered Bea-
trice had told him that she had written the
sermon, and was all attention. He was not
disappointed. Notwithstanding Mr.. Gran
gers infamous reading, and his habit of
dropping his voice at the end OF q sentence,
instead of raising it, the beauty Of the
thoughts and diction were very apparent.
It was indeed a discourse that might equal
ly we'll have been delivered in a Mahome-
dan or Buddhist place OF worship; there
was nothing distinctively Christian about
it, it merely appealed to the good in human
nature. But of this neither the preacher
nor his audience seemed to be aware. In
deed, few of the latter were listening at all.
The sermon was short, and ended with
passage of real power and beaty-or rather
it did not end, for, closing the MS. sheets,
Mr.. Granger followed on with few i'm
promptu remarks of his own.
"And now, brethren,'' he said, 'I have
been preaching to you about charity, but 1
wish to add one remark, charity begins at
home. There is about hundred pounds Of
1.-THE owing to me, and some OF it has been
owing for two years and more. II that