hopeless tears. Into her heart the great organ had pealed the gladness
of its exultant Easter message, and in the deep peace of the silence
which followed, the fragrance of the lilies breathed a wordless "Amen!"




JUST HER WAY


"Look out of the window, Judith! Quick! Mrs. Avery is going away!"
Judith Windham, bending over the sewing-machine in her bedroom, started
as her little sister's voice came piping shrilly up the stairs, and
leaving her chair she leaned out of the old-fashioned casement window.

There were so few goings and comings in sleepy little Westbrooke, that
the passing of the village omnibus was an exciting event. With an
imposing rumble of yellow wheels it rattled up to Doctor Allen's gate
across the road. A trunk, a dress suit case, and numerous valises were
hoisted to the top of it, and the doctor's family flocked down to the
gate to watch the departure of the youngest member of their household,
Marguerite.

It had been four years since the first time they watched her go away, a
nineteen-year-old bride. Since then they had visited her, severally and
collectively, in her elegant apartments in Washington, but this had been
her first visit home. Judith, watching her flutter down the walk with
her hand in the old doctor's, thought she looked even prettier and more
girlish than on her wedding-day. Married life had been all roses for
Marguerite.