iece was ended, Marion turned with a
bright face, and said:

"I haven't enjoyed a song so much in years. What a splendid tenor you
sing, Mr. Johnson." To herself she said: "There! I'm improving; I
honestly think that. But twenty-four hours ago, I should have kept it to
myself. It isn't hypocrisy, after all: it is sincerity."

Another, and another piece was tried, the music room meantime filling;
for Flossy had brought in her train others of the boys. And at last, as
the last verse of "Hold the Fort" rang out, Marion turned from the piano
to discover that utmost silence prevailed in the rooms where chatter had
been before, and every available place in and about the music room was
filled with hushed listeners, while those who could not get in, sat or
stood outside in silence and wrapt attention. Such music as that at a
party they had never heard before.

"You and I are a success, I think," Marion said brightly, as she linked
her hand in Ruth's arm, when they left the piano.

"We are doing our duty beautifully."

"Are you complimenting yourself because you are afraid no one will
perform that office?" Ruth asked, laughing.

"No, I'm doing it because I have begun to be sincere. I've made a
discovery to-night. Ruth, it is you and I who are hypocritical, in
refusing to say what we think about people, when it would sound real
nicely, and would doubtless make them feel pleasanter and happier."

Meantime, Ruth had her lesson also that she had been learning. What a
trial parties had always been to her! How haughtily she had stood aloof
enduring with annoyed heart, and oftentimes with curling lip,
sillinesses that she could not avoid, listening to conversations and
joining in monosyllables when obliged to do so, that drove her to the
very verge of patience, not once imagining that there was any help for
her, any hope of stemming the current, or in any way changing the
accepted course of things.

She was learning. Several times during the evening it had been her
fortune to stand near Evan Roberts and join in the conversation which
he was carrying on. Each time she was amazed and thrilled to see with
what consummate skill and tact he turned the current of thought towards
the vital question of personal religion. Always with an easy familiarity
of expression that made one feel and realize that to him it was a matter
of course, and as natural to be talked about, as the sunshine or the
moonlight.

Wondering over this peculiari