"Well, perhaps,--but what can I now do? this waiting will be terrible."

"You'll come with me this morning. I have some calls to make."

And so all that day Chester remained with Elder Malby, visiting Saints and investigators, adjusting difficulties, and explaining principles of the gospel. It was a splendid thing for the young man, this getting his thoughts from self; and before evening, he had obtained so much of the missionary spirit that he asked to be permitted to bear his testimony at the street meeting. "The louder the mob howls and interrupts, the better for me," he declared. "You remember the other evening when a young fellow stood within a few feet of you and kept repeating: 'Liars, liars, from Utah'?"

"Yes; I remember."

"I'd like to talk to that fellow tonight."

So Chester talked at the street-meeting that evening, but to a very orderly lot of people. After the services, many pressed around him and asked him questions. One young man walked with him and the elders to the mission office. They talked on the gospel, and Chester forgot his own heartache in ministering to another heart hungering for the truth.

The next morning, Chester tried again to remain in bed, but this time without success. He was up in the gray awakening city, walking in the park, listening to the birds near by and the rumbling beginnings of London life. After breakfast, he went again to the Church office.

"You must excuse me for thus being such a bother," he explained to Elder Malby, "but--but I can't keep away."

"I hope you never will," replied the elder, encouragingly. "It is when men like you keep away that there is danger."

"What's the program today?"

"Tracting. Do you want to try?"

"Yes; I want to keep going. Yesterday was not bad. I felt fine all day."

That afternoon Chester had his first trial in delivering gospel tracts from door to door. He approached his task timidly, but soon caught the spirit of the work. He had a number of interesting experiences. One old gentleman invited him into the house, that he might more freely tell the young man what he thought of him and his religion, and this was by no means complimentary. An old lady, limping to the door and learning that the caller was from America, told him she had a son there--and did he know him? Then there were doors slammed in his face, and some gracious smiles and "thank you"--altogether Chester was so busy meeting these various people that he had no time to worry over those who now should be nearly to Kildare Villa in green Ireland.

While he was eating supper with the elders, which Elder Malby said he had well earned, a messenger came to the door. Was one Chester Lawrence there? Yes.

"A telegram for him, please."

Chester opened the message and read:

"Come to Liverpool in morning. All well. Tell me when and where to meet you--Lucy."

Chester handed the message to Elder Malby.

"Once more, don't you see," said the elder, smiling, "all is well."

"Yes; yes," replied Chester in a way which was more of a prayer of thanksgiving than common speech.

Early the following morning Captain Brown was rewarded for his gallant lack of inquisitiveness regarding the sending and the receiving of telegrams by Lucy coming to him with her sweetest smile and saying:

"Captain Brown, was that horse and carriage you used yesterday yours?"

"Oh no; that belongs to my neighbor--only when I am not using it. Do you wish a drive this morning?"

"I want to meet the noon train from London at Lime Street Station; and if it wouldn't be too much trouble--"

"Not at all. My neighbor is very glad to have me exercise the horse a bit. Can you drive him alone?"

"I'm a little nervous."

"Will I do for coachman?"

"If you would, Captain?"

"Then that's settled. I'll go immediately and make arrangements;" which he did.

"Papa," said Lucy to her father, "the captain will drive me to the station. You'll be all right until we get back?"

"All right, yes; don't worry more about me. I'm getting strong faster than I ever did before. See."

He paced back and forth with considerable vim in his movements. "Why,"

he continued, stopping in front of Lucy and kissing her gently on the cheek, "I feel better right now than I have for a long time--better inside, you know."

Lucy did not understand exactly what he meant by the "inside," but she did not puzzle her head about it. She was happy to know that her father was so well and that Chester was speeding to her. The day promised to be fair, and the drive to the station would be delightful. She was looking out of the window.

"Lucy," said her father, placing his hand on her shoulder, "you need not tell Captain Brown the little secrets you have learned; and I think your Uncle Gilbert need not know any more than he does. It is just as well for all concerned that these things remain to outward appearances just as they have in the past."

"All right, papa."

"We--Chester and you and I will know and understand and be happy. What else matters?"

"What, indeed."

"Now, there's the captain already. He's early; but perhaps he intends driving you about a bit first."

That was just it. The morning air was so invigorating, Captain Brown explained, that it was a pity not to feel it against one's face. He knew of a number of very pretty drives, round-about ways, to the station, and the fields were delightfully green just then.

In a short time away they rattled down the graveled road, the father waving after them. It was a good thing, said Lucy, that strong hands had the reins, for the horse was full of life. They sped over the smooth, hedge-bordered roads, winding about fields and gardens until they arrived at Calderstone Park. Here the captain pointed out the Calder Stones, ruins of an ancient Druid place of worship or sacrifice. Then they drove leisurely through Sefton Park, thence townward to the station.

They had a few moments to wait, during which the driver stroked the horse's nose, talking to him all the while not to be afraid of the noisy cars. The whistle's shrill pipe sounded and the train rolled in. The captain stood by his horse, while Lucy went to the platform, and met Chester as he leaped from the car.

"Oh, ho," said the captain to his horse, when he saw the meeting. A partial explanation was given him of the "certain young man" whom they were to meet.

The captain held the carriage door open to them like a true coachman.

"Take the back seat, please," he commanded, after the introduction; "in these vehicles, the driver sits in front."

The captain drove straight home, so in a very-short time they were set down at the steps.

"Go right in," he said. "I'll take the horse back, and be with you shortly."

The housekeeper met them in the hall, took wraps and hats, and directed them upstairs where the "gentleman" was waiting. Lucy had had no opportunity to tell Chester the secret about herself, so she would have to let his father do so. They walked quietly to the father's room and opened the door softly. He appeared to be sleeping in his chair, so they tip-toed into another room.

"Is he better?" asked Chester.

"Nearly well again." They did not seat themselves, but stood by the table. She came close to him, smiling up into his face and said, "_Everything's_ all right, Chester."

"Yes, of course," he replied. "You are looking so rosy and well, I forget you are an invalid."