The children hushed.

"Here are the pennies for my berries, Uncle Benny," she said quietly.
"I've taken just a quart."

"Yes, yes; all right, Vesty. I'm--ahem!--_engaged_, Vesty. Such a
bew-tiful----"

Vesty held her hands on his head. "Uncle Benny" (she would never, even
to please him, call him Dr. Spearmint), "you must not think of that.
She did not mean that. Besides, you have promised to be always a
friend to me, don't you remember?--and to lead the children home from
school. You know your mother expects"--they glanced up together at the
picture--"that you will do what Jesus told you about doing--that about
leading the little children home from school. What if one of them
should get lost, or hurt? O Uncle Benny!"

"Oh, my!" he gasped. "I didn't think, Vesty," tears streaming down his
pale but now placid and restored face.

Vesty smiled, standing there. A light crossed her face; she began to
sing:

"The road is winding, the road is dark,
Sail away to Galilee!"

* * * * * *

Her voice seemed to me, in that dim hour, to take up Uncle Benny and
bear him away, with his great hurt, to the breast of his mother, in
heaven, to be healed.

He joined her in the chorus, and then they sang together, she
modulating sweetly her full, rich tones to his. Her voice made
heavenly rapture of Uncle Benny's song:

'There 's a tree I see in Paradise--
Sail away to Galilee.
It 's the beautiful, waiting Tree of Life--
Sail away to Galilee,
Sail away to Galilee,
Put on your long white robe of peace,
And sail away to Galilee."

VI

THIS GREATER LOVE

"How can I approach the girl?" thought Mrs. Garrison. "If I should
send word for Vesta Kirtland to come here and see me, Notely would be
sure to hear of it; he would wonder; ask questions. If I go down and
see her it will provoke endless comment and wonder among those people.
I never visit them. There is no other way. Notely takes the Langhams
for the day in his boat to-morrow. I will be driven to the Basin. I
will ask Vesta indifferently, by the way, to go with me in those woods
where I played in childhood, too timid now to walk there alone. They
will say, as well as they can express it, that sentiment must be
getting fashionable! Never mind. I shall see and talk with the girl.
We will see."

Mrs. Garrison alighted from her carriage before she reached Vesty's
door.

"Wait here," she s