called the dog to her, and
petted him.

"No, no, Pete, Tess ain't able to run an' play with ye any more," she
told him, sadly, "but ye can go with me to Hayt's."

Nuzzling her hand, the great dog walked soberly by her side, as though
he understood. Tess shivered a little as the frost-laden air bit
nippingly at her ears. The winter birds between her and the lake lifted
their wings and mounted against the wind, some driving in flocks, others
now and then by twos and threes. Tess followed their flight through the
storm.... How strong and happy they seemed!

For an instant she paused at the gate in front of Deforrest Young's
empty house. The snow had drifted until the path could no longer be
discerned. A little twinge of loneliness touched Tessibel's heart. Her
friend would not be at the church that day.

When she came within sight of the chapel, she bent and petted Pete. She
took his head between her gloved hands and looked into the lovely eyes
shining out of his ugly face.

"Go home, Petey dearie," she said. "Tessibel air goin' to church. They
don't let dogs in God's house, honey."

Obediently the dog turned and trotted off.

Tess opened the chapel door and stepped in. Buffeted, as she had been by
the storm, she met the warmth within with a grateful little sigh.

Half-way to the stove in the middle of the room, she stopped, arrested
by the unusual group beyond. Ebenezer Waldstricker stood there,
surrounded by the elders of the church. In all she counted five men: the
minister, Silander Griggs, and three elders. At one side sat Frederick
Graves.

Puzzled and embarrassed by Frederick's presence and appearance,
half-conscious of something menacing in the stern faces turned toward
her, she was tempted, weary as she was, to turn back into the blizzard
raging without. As she awkwardly scraped the snow from her shoes, Pastor
Griggs came to her and led her to a seat near the fire.

Waldstricker gazed at her critically, but didn't bow his head. Tessibel
didn't mind if people failed to speak to her, and she didn't like
Waldstricker anyway. She did not look at Frederick after that first
fleeting glance, but bowed her head on the pew-back in front from sheer
weariness. The memory of that scene in the cabin three weeks previous
recurred with renewed clearness. Madelene's insulting words, re-echoing
in her ears, made her grow faint from stinging humiliation. Oh, how
sorry she was she'd come to church! She could have asked J