It seemed but a little while till dawn.

The carriage was brought to the door and Wyllis Elliot and his
sister said goodbye. She could not meet Eric's eyes as she gave
him her hand, but as he stood by the horse's head, just as the
carriage moved off, she gave him one swift glance that said, "I
will not forget." In a moment the carriage was gone.

Eric changed his coat and plunged his head into the water tank
and went to the barn to hook up his team. As he led his horses to
the door, a shadow fell across his path, and he saw Skinner rising
in his stirrups. His rugged face was pale and worn with looking
after his wayward flock, with dragging men into the way of
salvation.

"Good morning, Eric. There was a dance here last night?" he
asked, sternly.

"A dance? Oh, yes, a dance," replied Eric, cheerfully.

"Certainly you did not dance, Eric?"

"Yes, I danced. I danced all the time."

The minister's shoulders drooped, and an expression of profound
discouragement settled over his haggard face. There was almost
anguish in the yearning he felt for this soul.

"Eric, I didn't look for this from you. I thought God had set
his mark on you if he ever had on any man. And it is for things