set apart for purposes
not utilitarian, and a large part of what these people called religious
reverence was in fact a pathetic homage to beauty and poetry, and
_rest_.

When they all took their seats, and while the preacher was praying,
Bradley was absorbing the churchy smell of fresh linen, buoyant
perfumes, (camphor, cinnamon, violets, rose) and the hot, sweet odor of
newly-mown grass lying under the sun just outside of the windows. The
wind pulsed in through the half-swung window, a bee came buzzing wildly
along, a butterfly rested an instant on the window sill, and the
preacher prayed on in an oratorical way for the various departments of
government.

Bradley felt a sharp eye fixed upon him, and, turning cautiously,
caught Nettie looking at him. She nodded and smiled in her audacious
way. Two or three of the young fellows saw him and nodded at him, but
mainly the people sat with bowed heads, feeling some presence that was
full of grace and power to banish, for a short time at least the stress
of the struggle to live.

The young fellows were mainly in the back seats; and while they were
decorously quiet, it was evident that they had very little interest in
the prayer. Death and hell and the grave! Why should one trouble
himself about such things when the red blood leaped in the heart, and
the June wind was flinging a flickering flight of leaf shadows across
the window pane? There sat the girls with roguish eyes, the rounded
outline of their cheeks (as tempting as peaches), displayed with
miraculous skill at just their most taking angle. Their Sunday gowns
and gloves and hats transfigured them into something too dainty and
fine to be touched, and yet every glance and motion was an invitation
and a lure.

Here was the proper function of the church; to enable these young
people to see each other at their best, and to bring into their sordid
lives some hint, at least, of music and beauty.

Bradley did not hear the sermon. He was wondering just what Nettie's
smile meant, and what he was going to say to her. He was not subtle
enough to take a half-way or an ambiguous stand. He must either treat
her tenderness as a forgotten thing or hold himself to his promise as
something which he was under orders from his conscience to fulfill.

When the service was over he went out into the anteroom with the young
fellows, who were anxious to meet him. Quite a number of farmers were
in from the country, and they all crowded abo