be given without disloyalty. That is the way God
Himself works round for us.

"It is very clear to me," said Rachel Froke, folding up the sheets
of the letter, and putting them back into their envelope. "Shall
Desire read this?"

"I think so. It would not be a real thing, unless she understood."

So Desire had the letter to read that day when she came home; and
then Rachel Froke told her how it was that she must go away for a
while; and Desire went round to Miss Euphrasia's room in the
twilight, and gave her back her letter, and talked it all over with
her; and they two next day explained the most of it to Hazel. It was
not needful that she should know the very whole about Rachel or the
Argenters; only enough was said to make plain the real companionship
that was coming, and the mutual help that it might be; enough of the
story to make Hazel cry out joyfully,--"Why, Desire! Miss
Kirkbright! She's another! She belongs!" And then, without such
drawback of sadness as the other two had had to feel, she caught
them each by a hand, and danced them up and down a little dance
before the fire upon the hearth-rug--singing,--

"Four of us know the Muffin-man,
Five of us know the Muffin-man,
All of us know the Muffin-man,
That lives in Drury Lane."

CHAPTER XIV.

MAVIS PLACE CHAPEL.

It was on the corner of Merle Street and Mavis Place. The Reverend
Hilary Vireo, as I have told you, was the minister.

It might have been called, if anybody had thought of it, "The Chapel
of the New Song." For it was the very gospel of hope and gladness
that Hilary Vireo preached there, and had preached and lived for
twenty years, making lives to sing that would have moaned.

"Haven't you a song in your heart, somewhere?" was his word once, to
a man of hard life, who came to him in a trouble, and telling him of
it, passed to a spiritual confidence, such as Vireo drew out of
people without the asking. At the end of his story, the man had said
that "he supposed it was as good as he ought to expect; he hadn't
any business to look for better, and he must just bear it, for
_this_ life. He hoped there _was_ something afterwards for them that
could get to it, but he didn't know."

"Aren't you _glad_ of things, sometimes?" said Mr. Vireo. "Of a
pleasant day, even,--or a strong, fresh feeling in the morning?
Don't you touch the edge of the great gladness that is in the world,
now and then, in