erica."

"It does not displease you?"

"It used to at first. Possibly I am getting used to it now. I see there
is so much genuine unhappiness in the world, I am not going to grieve
over the mild criticisms of my friends."

"A very philosophic conclusion to come to. But does it not occur to you
that other meanings than unkindly ones may be taken from these chance
remarks we let fall?"

"It would please me if I could," I said, looking at him with pleased
eagerness. Mrs. Flaxman entered the room then, ready for church. My head
was aching severely, and a distressing giddiness occasionally seized me;
but I was so eager for this long coveted privilege, I kept silent about
my feelings. Sickness and I were such strangers to each other, I scarcely
understood its premonitory warnings.

CHAPTER XXV.

BEECH STREET WORSHIPPERS.

As we neared the Beech Street Church, we found a crowd of persons
hurrying in the same direction. Mrs. Flaxman expressed her astonishment;
since she supposed Mr. Lathrop's flock to be small in number, and humble
in its class of adherents. When we reached the door, a glance inside
revealed the fact that it was already comfortably filled, and where all
the approaching throng were to be bestowed was a mystery. Daniel Blake
was one of the ushers. His face brightened at sight of us. Nodding
respectfully to Mr. Winthrop, he led us to one of the best seats in the
house. I glanced around at the large congregation, and was impressed by
the solemn hush pervading the place, and the expectant look on the faces
of the worshippers. Mr. Bowen was sitting near and I wanted Mr. Winthrop
to see and know him; so I took out my pencil and wrote on the leaf of my
hymn book directing his attention to my friend. He looked keenly at the
pale, rapt face, and then with a scarce perceptible smile turned to me.

The church kept filling; and while yet the people were streaming in, the
minister arose, and after a brief, but exceedingly solemn invocation,
gave out the hymn. In an alcove just behind the preacher's stand was a
cabinet organ, and some half dozen singers, male and female; but once the
singing had got well under way, organ and choir were as though they were
not; nearly every one in the house was singing save myself and Mr.
Winthrop. I kept silent the more keenly to enjoy the heavy volume of
sound which impressed me as more reverent praise than any church music
I had ever heard. I turned to Mr. Winthrop. He too