rching in line. You have heard it! You have _listened_
for it!! It was the dear, unmistakable sound of a girls' school on the
march. Quickly it came nearer, it was in the porch--it was in the
church! Narcissus gave a swift glance round. He dare not give a real
searching look yet. His heart beat too fast, his cheek burned too red.
But he saw it was a detachment of girls--it certainly was Alice's
school.

Then came the white-robed choristers, and the white-haired priests: _If
we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not
in us; but, if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive
us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness_.

DEARLY BELOVED BRETHREN....

His heart swelled with a sobbing exaltation of worship such as he had
not known for years. You could hardly have believed that a little
apple-dumpling of a pink and white girl was the real inspirer of that
look in his young face that made old ladies, even more than young ones,
gaze at him, and remark afterwards on the strange boy with the lovely
spiritual expression.

But, all the time, Narcissus felt that Alice's great eyes were on him,
glowing with glad surprise. The service proceeded, but yet he forbore to
seek her. He took a delight in husbanding his coming joy. He would not
crudely snatch it. It would be all the sweeter for waiting. And the fire
in Alice's eyes would all the time be growing softer and softer. He
nearly looked as he thought of that. And surely that was her dear voice
calling to him in the secret language of the psalm. He sang back to her
with a wild rapture. Thus the morning stars sang together, he thought.

And when the prayers laid lovely hands across the eyes of the
worshippers, still he sought not Alice, but prayed for her as perhaps
only a boy can: O Lord God, be good to Alice--already she is one of thy
angels. May her life be filled with light and joy! And if in the time to
come I am worthy of being ever by her side, may we live our lives
together, high and pure and holy as always in thy sight! Lord, thou
knowest how pure is my love; how I worship her as I worship the holy
angels themselves. But whatsoever is imperfect perfect by the
inspiration of thy Holy Spirit....

So prayed the soul of the boy for the soul of the girl, and his eyes
filled with tears as he prayed; the cup of the wonder and holiness of
the world ran over.

Already, it seemed, that Alice and he lay clasped together in the