together, as being the easiest way--in fact, the
only way--to save his efforts from downright failure.

Without going in detail into the trials and tribulations incident to the
bringing of the musical part of the service at Mr. Euston's church up
to a respectable if not a high standard, it may be said that with
unremitting pains this end was accomplished, to the boundless relief and
gratitude of that worthy gentleman, and to a good degree of the members
of his congregation.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

On a fine Sunday in summer after the close of the service the exit of
the congregation of St. James's church presents an animated and
inspiring spectacle. A good many well-dressed ladies of various ages,
and not quite so many well-dressed men, mostly (as David would have put
it) "runnin' a little younger," come from out the sacred edifice with an
expression of relief easily changeable to something gayer. A few drive
away in handsome equipages, but most prefer to walk, and there is
usually a good deal of smiling talk in groups before parting, in which
Mr. Euston likes to join. He leaves matters in the vestry to the care of
old Barlow, the sexton, and makes, if one may be permitted the
expression, "a quick change."

Things had come about very much as David had desired and anticipated,
and our friend had met quite a number of the "summer people," having
been waylaid at times by the rector--in whose good graces he stood so
high that he might have sung anything short of a comic song during the
offertory--and presented willy-nilly. On this particular Sunday he had
lingered a while in the gallery after service over some matter connected
with the music, and when he came out of the church most of the people
had made their way down the front steps and up the street; but standing
near the gate was a group of three--the rector and two young women whom
John had seen the previous summer, and now recognized as the Misses
Verjoos. He raised his hat as he was passing the group, when Mr. Euston
detained him: "I want to present you to the Misses Verjoos." A tall
girl, dressed in some black material which gave John the impression of
lace, recognized his salutation with a slight bow and a rather
indifferent survey from a pair of very somber dark eyes, while her
sister, in light colors, gave him a smiling glance from a pair of very
blue ones, and, rather to his surprise, put out her hand with the usual
declaration of pleasure, happiness, or w