The Lord himself couldn't convert them." "Oh, Stephen! I think you are wrong," replied Mercy.

"Parson Dorrance is not sentimental, I am sure.

His sermons were clear and logical and terse,--not a waste word in them; and his mouth and chin are as strong as an old Roman's." Stephen looked earnestly at Mercy.

"Mercy," said he, "I wonder if you would love me better if I were a preacher, and could preach clear, logical, and terse sermons ?" Mercy was impatient.

Already the self-centring of Stephen's mind, his instant reverting from most trains of thought to their possible bearing on her love for him, had begun to irritate her.