rry. "You all had better go on in the house now and put Miss
Elinory's wet feet in the stove, for they won't be no use in her dying
on Mis' Mayberry's hands with pneumony at this busy time of the year.
Them slippers is too foolish to look at." With which the shawled head
disappeared from the top of the wall.

"Do you know, I had a strange dream last night," said the singer lady,
as the Doctor hung up his bridle and shut the feed-room door
preparatory to following out Mrs. Peavey's injunction as to carrying
Miss Wingate away to be dry shod. "I dreamed that I was singing to Mrs.
Bostick and the Deacon, REALLY singing, and just as it rose clear and
strong Mrs. Peavey called to me to 'shut up' and it stopped so suddenly
that I waked up--and the strange part of it is that I heard, really
heard, I thought, my own voice die away in an echo up in the eaves. For
a second I seemed awake and listening--and it was lovely--lovely!"

"Dear," said the Doctor, as he took her hand in his and held it against
his breast, "I would give all life has to offer me to get it back for
you. I will hope against hope! I haven't written Doctor Stein yet. I
can't make myself write. Perhaps we will find some one on this trip who
has some theory or treatment or something to offer. I've been praying
that help will come!"

"Would you--like me any better if I had it back?" she asked with a
happy little laugh as she laid her cheek against their clasped hands.
"Would you want L'ELEONORE more than you do just plain Elinor Wingate,
care Mother Mayberry, Providence, Tennessee?"

"I'm going to carry you in the house so you can put on dry stockings,"
answered the Doctor with a spark in his gray eyes that scorned her
question, and without any discussion he picked her up, strode through
the rain with her and deposited her in the kitchen door.

And over by the long window they found Mother Mayberry standing with
her hand on Cindy's shoulder, who sat with her head bowed in her apron
sobbing quietly, while Martin Luther stood wide-eyed and questioning,
with his little hand clutching Mother's skirts.

"Children," said Mother quietly as she came and stood beside them in
the doorway, while Martin Luther nestled up to Doctor Tom, "I've come
down the Road to tell you that it are all over up at the Deacon's. It
were very beautiful, for Mis' Bostick just give us a smile and went to
meet her Lord with the love of us all a-shining on her face. We didn't
hardly sense it