stooping shoulders. She scanned each face as it emerged from the
dim passageway, and her own grew a bit anxious as the boys passed.
Then it suddenly brightened with recognition. Doodles had appeared.

The woman stepped forward to meet him. "Excuse me," she hesitated,
"but are you the one who sang that solo, 'Take heart, ye weary'?"

The boy smiled his modest answer.

"Oh, I want to thank you for it! I've been waiting till you came,
and I was so afraid I'd missed you after all, for I probably shan't
have another chance. I wanted you to know how much good it has
done me."

"Has it?" Doodles looked his pleasure.

"Oh, it was beautiful!" she said tremulously. "I never heard
anything like it! I always enjoy your singing, and am so
disappointed when you don't sing alone; but seems to me this piece
was sweetest of all!"

"I guess you'll like the one for next Sunday," Doodles told
her,--"'And God shall wipe away all tears.'"

"Oh!" It was mingled longing and regret. "That must be beautiful!
I wish I could hear it--seems as if I must!" Her voice broke a
little. "But I'm afraid I can't. I shan't be here next Sunday."

"That's too bad! I'm sorry!"