lacked the light, bright, vivacious expression of Morris; while from
his deep, unwinking eyes men saw calmly looking out a strong, deep
nature, not observed before. He joined his mother and brother in the
last hymn. Everybody knew the Ridgeleys could sing. They carried
the burden of the grand and simple old tune nearly alone. The fine
mezzo-soprano of the mother, the splendid tenor of Morris, and the
rich baritone of Bart, in their united effect, had never been equalled
in the hearing of that assembly. The melody was a sweet and fitting
finale of the day, swelling out and dying away in the high arches of
the forest.

* * * * *

The Coes were objects of the kindness of Mrs. Markham and Julia,
obnoxious as was their religious faith; but Mrs. Markham was tolerant,
and she and her husband and daughter, with most of the State road
people, were present.

While they were waiting for the crowd to disperse, so that they could
reach their carriage, the Ridgeleys, who began to move out, on their
way home, approached, and were pleasantly recognized by the Markhams,
with whom the Major was a great favorite. The two parties joined,
shook hands, and interchanged a pleasant greeting--all but Bart. He
moved a little away, and acknowledged their presence by holding his
hat in his hand, as if unconscious that he was a spectacle for the
eyes of some of them, and without betraying that he could by any
possibility care. It was a sore trial for him.

Mrs. Markham looked at him several times as if she would go to him,
and an expression once or twice came into the sweet and pensive face