practising, and if we were to learn our French at
once, before tea, I believe Miss Frazer could be persuaded to excuse us
from prep. We'd simply love to come."

"Thank you, Lindsay. I'll ask Miss Russell. If she says 'Yes', will you
meet me at the church at seven?"

Miss Russell was lenient enough to give the required permission, having
ascertained that all lessons for next day were duly prepared; so Lindsay
and Cicely, much envied by the rest of their class, betook themselves
with zeal to try their 'prentice hands at the task of organ blowing. The
church was open, and Monica was already waiting for them in the porch.
She soon showed them how to work the bellows, and after telling them to
stop and rest as soon as they were tired, seated herself at the keyboard
and began her practice. Both the younger girls felt it a decidedly novel
and interesting experience to be in the little space behind the pipes,
working away at a long handle. As they took it in turns they were able
to keep the organ going fairly steadily, and only once left Monica
without wind in the middle of a piece. As a reward she allowed them to
try the instrument before she locked it up, showing them the various
stops and pedals, and how they were to be used.

"It's much more difficult than the piano," sighed Cicely, after a rather
unsuccessful attempt, "and yet it's simply grand to hear the lovely big
notes sounding through the church. I should like to learn myself
sometime when I'm older."

"Saint Cecilia was the patroness of music, and is always represented
playing the organ, so you might very well justify your name by following
in her footsteps," said Monica. "Now I simply must go, because my mother
will be wanting me. I've been far longer than usual to-night."

"It's our fault, I'm afraid," said Lindsay. "We kept making you pull out
the stops."

"No, you were dears to come. Perhaps Miss Russell will let you blow for
me some other evening; then we'll start earlier, and I shall have time
to let you both try again."

They had passed under the old yew trees of the churchyard and out
through the lich-gate into the road, when Monica suddenly looked over
her music and exclaimed:

"How stupid! I've left my little copy of _Lux Benigna_ behind. It
doesn't really matter much, only I don't care to get my pieces mixed up
with the organist's, and he will be there at a choir practice
to-morrow."

"Shall we go back?" suggested Cicely.

"No, I'm in too grea