evening to myself once more, when that indefatigable people of yours
are engaged. I am actually worn out receiving calls," she said,
languidly.

Mr. Eldred was disappointed. He had thought more than once that day
how he should enjoy it; to have his dream realized, Vida walking with
him, to his own meeting, and sitting near, singing as none but she
could sing. A spice of vanity mingled with it too. How the people
would listen and admire! He felt annoyed and was about to protest,
but she looked so like an angel in her soft white dress that he had
not the heart to find fault. So he kissed her good-bye, and went his
way alone.

She accompanied him the next week; to be a disappointment, however.
Her voice joined not in the hymns of praise, she remarking at the
close of the meeting:--

"Do you think I could sing in all that discord? It is horrible; it
sets every nerve in my body on edge. People always sing that way in
prayer-meeting, every one trying to sing, though not knowing one note
from another. One old man by me sang five notes below the key; a
woman on the other side screamed out as many above; a girl before me
had a strong nasal twang. I should think you'd go distracted; and, by
the way, what a quantity of common people attend your church!"

Mr. Eldred looked into the fire and repeated half aloud, "The common
people heard Him gladly."

As the weeks went on, it became evident to him that he must abandon
the pleasant plans he had formed of companionship in his work. He