Charred Wood

Outside, Main Street was decorated with flags; and the people, keenly expectant, were watching for His Excellency. Never before had they known the Minister of a Kingdom to step within the boundaries of Sihasset. Bishops had been seen there before, but Ministers were new, and international weddings had never come nearer than the great metropolis. Barons, too, were scarce, and who loves a baron--provided he is not an American "baron"--any more than the simon-pure Yankee? So the decorations were up by order of the selectmen, and the merchants vied with one another in making their own ornamentations as gorgeous as possible. And the people--with the sole exception of the O'Learys--waited outside, each anxious to catch the first glimpse of the great man who to-day was to honor them by his presence.

His Excellency arrived at last--in a low, swift-running automobile, the chauffeur of which seemed to know the road very well, and seemed also to be acquainted with every turn in the village. There was no one to notice that, when he passed the gates of Killimaga, he laughed quietly.

At Killimaga the gardens had never looked lovelier. Autumn was kind and contributed almost a summer sun.

Father Murray tore himself away from his guests at the rectory--and who should those guests be but the old friends who had for so long neglected him--to run up before the ceremony to see Ruth. She was already arrayed in her bridal finery, but she rushed out to meet him when she heard that he had arrived.