e Metz entered the church to keep her promise to sing at the
service she found an eager crowd waiting for the opening. Every
available space was occupied; people stood in the rear aisles, others
waited in the churchyard by the open windows and hoped to catch there
some stray parts of the service.

Phoebe pushed her way gently through the crowd at the door and stood in
the aisle until an usher saw her and directed her to a seat near the
organ. The pink in her cheeks grew deeper. "I'll sing my best for
Greenwald and the Feast of Roses," she thought. "And for David! He's in
the crowd. He said he's coming to hear me sing."

At the appointed hour the pipe-organ pealed out. The June sunlight
streamed through the open windows, fell upon the banks of roses, and
gleamed upon the fountain that played in the midst of the crimson
flowers. Peace brooded over the place as the last strains of music died.
There was silence for a moment, then a prayer, a hymn of adoration, and
then the chosen speaker stood before the crowd and delivered his
message.

Phoebe listened to him until he uttered the words, "True life must be
service, true love must be giving. No man has reached true greatness
save he serves, and he who serves most faithfully is greatest in the
kingdom."

After those words she fell to thinking. Many things that had been dark
to her suddenly became light. She seemed to see Royal Lee fiddling while
the world was in travail, but beside him rose a vision of David in
sailor's blue, ready to do his whole duty for his country.

"Oh," she thought, "I've been blind, but now I see! It's David I want.
He's a man!"

She heard as in a dream the words of the one who presented the red rose
to the heir. "Once more the time has come to pay our debt of one red
rose. It is with cheerfulness and reverence we pay our rental. Amid
these bright surroundings, in the presence of the many who have come to
witness this unique ceremony, do we give to you in partial payment of
the debt we owe--ONE RED ROSE."

The heir received the flower and expressed her appreciation. Then
silence settled upon the place and Phoebe rose to sing.

As the organ sent forth the opening strains of music the people in the
church looked at each other, surprised, disappointed. Why, that was the
old tune, "Jesus, Lover of my soul." The tune they had heard sung
hundreds of times--was Phoebe going to sing that? With so many
impressive selections to choose from no soloist n