. Flippin
told her husband. "She got the nurse to wheel her out into the kitchen
this afternoon, and watched me frost a cake and cut out biscuits. And
she says that she has never seen anything so sociable as the teakettle,
the way it rocks and sings."

So now when Madge asked Mrs. Flippin if she said her prayers, Mrs.
Flippin said, "Do you mean at night?"

"Yes."

"Bob and I say them together," said Mrs. Flippin. "We started on our
wedding night, and we ain't ever stopped."

It was a simple statement of a sublime fact. For thirty years this
plain man and this plain woman had kept alive the spiritual flame on
the household altar. No wonder that peace was under this roof and
serenity.

Madge, as she lay there holding Mrs. Flippin's hand, looked very young,
almost like a little girl. Her hair was parted and the burnished
braids lay heavy on her lovely neck. Her thin fine gown left her arms
bare. "Mrs. Flippin," she said, "I wish I could live here always, and
have you come every night and sit and hold my hand."

Her eyes were smiling and Mrs. Flippin smiled back. "You'd get tired."

"No," said Madge, "I don't believe anybody ever gets tired of goodness.
Not real goodness. The kind that isn't hypocritical or priggish. And
in these days it is so rare, that one just loves it. I am bored to
death with near-bad people, Mrs. Flippin, and near-good ones. I'd much
rather have them real saints and real sinners."

The nurse came in just then, and Mrs. Flippin went away. And after a
time the house was very still. Madge's bed was close to the window.
Outside innumerable fireflies studded the night with gold. Now and
then a screech-owl sounded his mournful note. It was a ghostly call,
and there was the patter of little feet on the porch as the old cat
played with her kittens in the warm dark. But Madge was not afraid.
She had a sense of great content as she lay there and thought of the
things she had said to Major Prime. It was not often that she revealed
herself, and when she did it was still rarer to meet understanding.
But he had understood. She was sure of that, and she would see him
soon. He had promised. And she would not have to go back to Oscar and
Flora until she was ready. Flora was better, but still very weak. It
would be much wiser, the doctor had said, if she saw no one but her
nurses for several days.

II

Truxton Beaufort rode over to King's Crest the next morning, and sat on
the st