d looked and froze with horror. For there, staggering
grotesquely, came little Jim Tumley, a piteous figure. He had kept his
promise to his new friend--he had come to sing the old songs.

Not a soul stirred. Only somewhere in the heart of the seated audience
Frank Burton groaned. This was a fight that he could not fight for
little Jim.

Nan Ainslee had stepped to the piano but her fingers were lead. And
for once the young minister was unable to rise to the situation. A
dark agony flooded his eyes and kept him motionless. It was the look
Grandma Wentworth had once seen in Cynthia's eyes. And it was that
look that took the strength from Grandma so that she too was helpless.

For sick, still minutes Green Valley watched little Jim stumble about
and fumble for his handkerchief. They stared at the stricken face of
their minister and at the laughing face whose memory they had come to
honor.

And then, when the deathly silence was becoming unbearable, a girl in a
dress like pink sea foam rose from her chair and stepped quietly,
daintily down the room until she stood beside the swaying figure of Jim
Tumley. She placed her hand gently on the little man's arm and turned
to her Green Valley neighbors.

"I shall sing the old songs with him," she said quietly.

She found an armchair and put the docile Jim into it. Then she smiled
at Nan Ainslee and told her what to play.

Nan's fingers touched the keys softly and from the slim throat that
rose like a flower stem from the pink sea foam there rolled out a
great, deep contralto.

It was unbelievable, that rich deep voice. It blotted out
everything--little Jim, the room, all sense of time and place--and
brought to the listeners instead the deep echoes of cathedral aisles,
the holy peace of a still gray day and the joy of coming sunshine. She
sang all the old songs, tenderly, softly. When she could sing no more
and they showered her with smiles and tears and applause, she raised
her hand for silence, for she had something to say.

"I am glad you liked the songs. I always sang them for father. I am
glad that I could do something for you, for you have all been so
wonderfully kind to me from the very first day that I came to Green
Valley. But why are you not kinder to Jim Tumley? Why don't you vote
the thing that is hurting him out of your town? If the women here
could vote that's what they would do. But surely you men will do it to
save Jim Tumley."