Weaver's family lives within
hearing of Dunstan church bells, and one of his boys is to run across
the fields and bring the news to Stornham. And it was most touching,
Miss Vanderpoel. They feel, in their rustic way, that Lord Mount Dunstan
has not been treated fairly in the past. And now he seems to them a hero
and a martyr--or like a great soldier who has died fighting."

"Who MAY die fighting," broke from Miss Vanderpoel sharply.

"Who--who may----" Mrs. Brent corrected herself, "though Heaven grant he
will not. But it was the ringers who made me feel as if all really
was over. Thank you, Miss Vanderpoel, thank you for being so practical
and--and cool."

"It WAS touching," said Lady Anstruthers, her eyes brimming over again.
"And what the villagers feel is true. It goes to one's heart," in a
little outburst. "People have been unkind to him! And he has been lonely
in that great empty place--he has been lonely. And if he is dying
to-day, he is lonely even as he dies--even as he dies."

Betty drew a deep breath. For one moment there seemed to rise before
her vision of a huge room, whose stately size made its bareness a more
desolate thing. And Mr. Penzance bent low over the bed. She tore her
thought away from it.

"No! No!" she cried out in low, passionate protest. "There will be
love and yearning all about him everywhere. The villagers who are
waiting--the poor things he has worked for--the very ringers themselves,
are all pouring forth the same thoughts. He will feel even ours--ours
too! His soul cannot be lonely."

A few minutes earlier, Mrs. Brent had been saying to herself inwardly:
"She has not much heart after all, you know." Now she looked at her in
amazement.

The blue bells were under water in truth--drenched and drowned. And yet
as the girl stood up before her, she looked taller--more the magnificent
Miss Vanderpoel than ever--though she expressed a new meaning.

"There is one thing the villagers can do for him," she said. "One thing
we can all do. The bell has not tolled yet. There is a service for those
who are--in peril. If the vicar will call the people to the church, we
can all kneel down there--and ask to be heard. The vicar will do that I
am sure--and the people will join him with all their hearts."

Mrs. Brent was overwhelmed.

"Dear, dear, Miss Vanderpoel!" she exclaimed. "THAT is touching, indeed
it is! And so right and so proper. I will drive back to the village at
once. The vicar's di