e embarrassed young teacher trying to forget
that there was company present. They were in a distinct sense "company,"
for they had the air, as they entered, of having come to look on and be
amused, not to partake in the worship with the rest.

Margaret found herself trembling inwardly as she saw the supercilious
smile on the lips of Mrs. Temple and the amused stares of the other
ladies of the party. They did not take any notice of the other people
present any more than if they had been so many puppets set up to show
off the teacher; their air of superiority was offensive. Not until Rosa
Rogers entered with her father, a little later, did they condescend to
bow in recognition, and then with that pretty little atmosphere as if
they would say, "Oh, you've come, too, to be amused."

Gardley was sitting up in front, listening to her talk, and she thought
he had not noticed the strangers. Suddenly it came to her to try to keep
her nerve and let him see that they were nothing to her; and with a
strong effort and a swift prayer for help she called for a hymn. She sat
coolly down at the piano, touching the keys with a tender chord or two
and beginning to sing almost at once. She had sent home for some old
hymn-books from the Christian Endeavor Society in her father's church,
so the congregation were supplied with the notes and words now, and
everybody took part eagerly, even the people from the fort
condescendingly joining in.

But Gardley was too much alive to every expression on that vivid face of
Margaret's to miss knowing that she was annoyed and upset. He did not
need to turn and look back to immediately discover the cause. He was a
young person of keen intuition. It suddenly gave him great satisfaction
to see that look of consternation on Margaret's face. It settled for him
a question he had been in great and anxious doubt about, and his soul
was lifted up with peace within him. When, presently, according to
arrangement, he rose to sing a duet with Margaret, no one could have
possibly told by so much as the lifting of an eyelash that he knew there
was an enemy of his in the back of the room. He sang, as did Margaret,
to the immediate audience in front of him, those admiring children and
adoring men in the forefront who felt the school-house had become for
them the gate of heaven for the time being; and he sang with marvelous
feeling and sympathy, letting out his voice at its best.

"Really," said Mrs. Temple, in a loud