The sun appeared! And green and red and yellow shafts of light slanted
through the stained-glass panes and mingled with the blue
incense-wreaths. They made the corners of the brasswork shine and brought
smiles to the faces of the saints in their niches. A splash of gold fell
on the curly heads of the children, dark and fair; and tiny rays flashed
upon the gilt edges of their prayer-books. The congregation prayed
diligently and the full voices sang the joyful _Gloria in excelsis_ with
the organ.

After the Gospel, the priest hung up his chasuble on the stand and
mounted the pulpit. After a noisy shifting of chairs and dragging of feet
and coughing, the people sat still, with their faces turned to the
priest. He began by reading out the notices in a snuffling tone: the
intentions of the masses for the ensuing week; the names of those about
to be married or lately deceased. Then he waited, cast his eyes over that
level multitude of raised heads, pulled up his white sleeves and turned
his face towards the children. His drawling voice wished them
_proficiat_.

It was the first time in their lives that the youngsters saw that face
turned expressly towards them from a pulpit and also the first time that
they listened to the sermon with attention. They kept their eyes fixed on
the priest so as not to lose a word. The great day had arrived; a few
moments more and they would be completing the solemn task, they, small
children, the task that was denied to the pure angels in heaven.

"And that work must be the foundation on which all your future life is
based. Your souls are now so clean, so pure, they are shining like clear
water and are quite spotless. For years we have taught and instructed and
prepared you in order to teach your virgin hearts, this day, now, in this