carriage and be ready in a few minutes," and he left the room gaily
humming the fragment of an opera air.

It was an elegant, stately church. The brilliant light which flowed
through the stained windows almost dazzled the sight of the young
girl, accustomed only to the plain green shades of the humble village
church. The voice of the deep-toned organ rolled through the marble
hall and then burst forth into a light, gay air, which, to her
unaccustomed ears, sounded strangely in a house of worship. God seemed
nearer in the little church at home, which, nestled down among the
grassy mounds and moss-grown headstones, seemed always pointing to a
life beyond.

When the minister arose she marked well his graceful air, the polished
words and sentences which flowed so smoothly from his lips as he read
them from the page before him. But, alas!

"So coldly sweet, so deadly fair,
We start, for soul is wanting there."

Clara felt that her soul had not been fed, as the carriage rolled away
from the marble church; but there was much around her to attract the
gaze of one who had never before spent a Sabbath in the city. Her
husband was glad to be released from the sound of "the prosy old
doctor's essay," and was in quite good humor with himself for his act
of self-denial in going to church. So the drive home was quite a
pleasant one, though considerably longer than the one to church.

When they reached home a note was brought in containing an invitation
from a fashionable friend of Mr. Allen's to take a little drive out to