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 came into view. Too soon they were at the door, and he was helping her to alight. He held her hand to the extreme limit of good taste, held it and pressed it, saying:

"I shall be at church to-morrow. If you don't mind, it would give me pleasure to escort you home after the services."

She looked at him in surprise, her lips parted in an odd little smile, her violet eyes emphasizing her wonderment.

"Why, Bent, you've scarcely attended church half a dozen times since you came home from college. What brings you out to-morrow?"

"You!" he answered, feeling himself thrill and choke a bit. "I'm a heathen, I admit; but I'm coming out to-morrow to worship—you." He had said such things before, to other girls, but he had spoken them lightly, and without a tremor; now little electric vibrations were running along his nerves, and, though he knew that his face was pale, he could feel his swollen heart pulsing hard, and his temples drumming. He had never dreamed that saying such a "little thing" to a pretty girl would come so near unmanning him.

Her surprise had grown, but she was self-possessed. "Thou shalt not worship false gods," she laughed. Then, as if she saw something in his