benison they
flowed over his drooping spirits!

"And now, Padre dear," she said, rising from the bench,--"we have done
all we could--left everything with God--haven't we? I must go now, for
madre Maria told me to come back soon. She needs me."

"Don't--no, not yet! Wait--Carmen! Sing for me--just once more! Sing
again the sweet melody that I heard when I awoke from the fever that
day long ago!"

He drew her unresisting to his side. Nestling close against him, her
head resting on his shoulder and her hand in his, she sang again the
song that had seemed to lift him that distant day far, far above the
pitiful longings and strivings of poor humanity, even unto the gates
of the city of eternal harmony.

She finished, and the last clear, sweet note echoed through the musty
room and died among the black rafters overhead. A holy silence fell
upon them as they sat, hand in hand, facing the future. Hot tears were
streaming down the man's cheeks. They fell sparkling like drops of
dew upon her brown curls. But he made no complaint. The girl, obedient
to the vision, was reaping her reward. He, timid, wavering, doubting,
was left, still pecking at the shell of his dreary environment. It was
but the working of the infinite law of cause and effect. But did he
imagine that out in the world she would not still find tribulation,
even as the Saviour had said? Aye, she would, in abundance! But she
leaned on her sustaining God. Her Christ had overcome the world. And
so should she. She had already passed through such fiery trials that
he knew no contrary belief in evil now could weaken or counterbalance
her supreme confidence in immanent good.

"Padre dear."

"_Chiquita_."

"If I have to go and leave you, will you promise me that you will act
your knowledge of the Christ-principle and work out your problem, so
that you may come to me soon?"

The tug at his heartstrings brought a moan to his lips. He smothered
it. "Yes, _chiquita_."

"And--you will keep your promise about Anita's babe?"

"Yes."

She rose and, still holding his hand, led him down the hill and to
Rosendo's house.

Throughout the remainder of that feverishly busy day the priest clung
to the girl like a shadow. They talked together but little, for she
was in constant demand to help her foster-mother in the preparations
for the long journey. But Jose was ever at her side. Again and again
he would seize her hand and press it to his burning lips. Again and
again he