A moment more and his mind was busy with a passage in his sermon which
seemed about to escape his memory: it was still as impossible for him to
talk freely about the things a minister is supposed to love best, as it
had been when he began to preach. It was not, certainly, out of the
fulness of the heart that _his_ mouth ever spoke!
He sought the house of Mr. Robertson, the friend he had come to assist, had
supper with him and his wife, and retired early. In the morning he went to
his friend's church, in the afternoon rehearsed his sermon to himself, and
when the evening came, climbed the pulpit-stair, and soon appeared
engrossed in its rites. But as he seemed to be pouring out his soul in the
long extempore prayer, he suddenly opened his eyes as if unconsciously
compelled, and that moment saw, in the front of the gallery before him, a
face he could not doubt to be that of Isy. Her gaze was fixed upon him; he
saw her shiver, and knew that she saw and recognized him. He felt himself
grow blind.
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