ooked up from a perusal of
Audrey's concert ticket.

"If neither of you want this ticket," he said, "I think I will take
it. I would like to hear Audrey play, and she will feel it dull if
there is nobody there that she knows."

Denys looked up gratefully.

"Oh, I am so glad!" she said. "I was afraid she would be very
disappointed to see no one. That is really kind."

Gertrude pouted openly.

"Look here, Denys!" she said, "mind you and Charlie look out for me!"

That little touch of God's hand had made all the difference to Denys.

"All right," she said cheerfully, "we will do our best."

She ran lightly upstairs and knocked softly at Mrs. Henchman's door.

She found Mrs. Henchman lying on her sofa beside a bright little
fire, and after telling her their plans, she bent down and kissed her
affectionately.

"Shall you be lonely with us all out?" she asked solicitously.

"I daresay I shall be all right, my dear," Mrs. Henchman replied, a
little grudgingly. This weakness which had come upon her in the last
few months was a sore trial--not an accepted trial--under which she
chafed and fretted day by day.

Denys longed to be able to say, "I will gladly stay and keep you
company," but then Charlie had arranged this evening's engagement and
she knew Mrs. Henchman would not allow it to be altered.

Instead, she said, "Will Mary come up, and see if you want anything?"

"I really can't say, my dear. Mary is a funny person. Run along now or
you will be late for Charlie."

Denys left her, but as she passed down the stairs she saw the kitchen
door ajar, and with a sudden impulse she tapped at it.

"Mary!" she said, "we are all going out. You will take care of Mrs.
Henchman, won't you?"

"Well, Miss!" Mary's tone and face were indignant. "I always _do_ take
care of Mrs. Henchman."

Denys retreated.

"Oh, dear!" she said to herself as she closed the front door behind
her. "I am afraid I have made a mistake."

CHAPTER VII.

HEIGHTS AND DEPTHS.

It seemed to Denys as if she had never felt so absolutely happy, so
blissfully content, as she did when with Charlie's arm tucked into
hers, they left the station together and made their way down the steep
hill to the church.

All the worries of the day and the worries of the yesterdays had
slipped from her, and not even the thought of Gertrude, awaiting them
in the church porch, had power to disturb her.

Charlie and she were together, and before them stre