of subdued excitement flowed over the congregation. Sylvia
rose and came forward to Janet Moore's side at the organ. The
next moment her beautiful voice soared through the building
like the very soul of melody--true, clear, powerful, sweet.
Nobody in Spencervale had ever listened to such a voice,
except Old Lady Lloyd herself, who, in her youth, had heard
enough good singing to enable her to be a tolerable judge of
it. She realized instantly that this girl of her heart had a
great gift--a gift that would some day bring her fame and
fortune, if it could be duly trained and developed.

"Oh, I'm so glad I came to church," thought Old Lady Lloyd.

When the solo was ended, the Old Lady's conscience compelled
her to drag her eyes and thoughts from Sylvia, and fasten them
on the minister, who had been flattering himself all through
the opening portion of the service that Old Lady Lloyd had
come to church on his account. He was newly settled, having
been in charge of the Spencervale congregation only a few
months; he was a clever little fellow and he honestly thought
it was the fame of his preaching that had brought Old Lady
Lloyd out to church.

When the service was over all the Old Lady's neighbours came
to speak to her, with kindly smile and handshake. They thought
they ought to encourage her, now that she had made a start in
the right direction; the Old Lady liked their cordiality, and
liked it none the less because she detected in it the same
unconscious respect and deference she had been wont to receive
in the old days--a respect and deference which her personality