visit the
contralto of the choir, whose good-will he had already besought for the
young stranger. The contralto was a thin, disappointed little woman,
with rather a bad temper; but as she liked Anne's voice, and hated the
organist and tenor, she mentally organized an alliance offensive and
defensive on the spot, contralto, soprano, and basso against the other
two, with possibilities as to the rector thrown in. For, as the rector
regularly attended the rehearsals (under the mild delusion that he was
directing the choir), the contralto hoped that the new soprano's face,
as well as voice, would draw him out of his guarded neutrality, and
give to their side the balance of power. So, being in a friendly mood,
she went over the anthems with Anne, and when the little rehearsal was
ended, Herr Scheffel took her thin hand, and bowed over it profoundly.
Miss Pratt was a native of Maine, and despised romance, yet she was not
altogether displeased with that bow. Sunday morning came; the new voice
conquered. Anne was engaged to fill the vacant place in the choir.
Furniture was now purchased for the empty little home, but very
sparingly. It looked as though it would be cold there in the winter.
But--winter was not yet come.

Slowly she gained other pupils; but still only little girls "for the
sgales," as Herr Scheffel said. The older scholars for whom she had
hoped did not as yet seek her. But the little household lived.

In the mean while Pere Michaux on the island and Miss Lois at the
springs had both been taken by surprise by Anne's sudden departure from
Weston. They knew nothing of it until she was safely in the half-house.
But poor Miss Lois, ever since the affair of Tita and Rast, had
cynically held that there was no accounting for anybody or anything in
this world, and she therefore remained silent. Pere Michaux divined that
there was something behind; but as Anne offered no explanation, he asked
no question. In truth, the old priest had a faith in her not unlike that
which had taken possession of Heathcote. What was it that gave these two
men of the world this faith? It was not her innocence alone, for many
are innocent. It was her sincerity, combined with the peculiar intensity
of feeling which lay beneath the surface--an intensity of which she was
herself unconscious, but which their eyes could plainly perceive, and,
for its great rarity, admire, as the one perfect pearl is admired among
the thousands of its compeers by t