And Missy's strained ears caught no ominous suggestion as to her own
staying at home.

Later, walking sedately to the church between her grandparents,
Missy felt her heart beating so hard she feared they might hear it.
Once inside the church, she drew a long breath. Oh, if only she
didn't have so long to wait! How could she wait?

Polly Currier was again seated on the choir platform, to night an
angel in lavender mull. She had a bunch of pansies at her belt--
pansies out of grandma's garden. Pete must have given them to her!
She now and then smiled back toward the back pew where Pete and "the
crowd" were sitting.

To Missy's delight Polly sang a solo. It was "One Sweetly Solemn
Thought"--oh, rapture! Polly's high soprano floated up clear and
piercing-sweet. It was so beautiful that it hurt. Missy shut her
eyes. She could almost see angels in misty white and floating golden
hair. Something quivered inside her; once more on the wings of music
was the religious feeling stealing back to her.

The solo was finished, but Missy kept her eyes closed whenever she
thought no one was looking. She was anxious to hold the religious
feeling till her soul could be entirely born anew. And she had quite
a long time to wait. That made her task difficult and complicated;
for it's not easy at the same time to retain an emotional state and
to rehearse a piece you're afraid of forgetting.

But the service gradually wore through. Now they were at the "come
forward and sit at the feet of Jesus." To-night grandpa and grandma