rged without being made louder. It carried far in among
the trees, clear and soft as a wave-ripple. Entranced, Agatha began
the second part of the song, just for the joy of singing:

"Oh! that we two sat dreaming
On the sward of some sheep-trimmed down--"

when suddenly, from the distance, another voice took up the strain.
Danny was instantly up and off to investigate, but presently came back
wagging and begging his mistress to follow him.

In spite of her surprise in hearing another voice complete the duet,
Agatha went on with the song, half singing, half humming. It was a
woman's voice that joined hers, singing the part quite according to the
book:

"With our limbs at rest on the quiet earth's breast
And our souls at home with God!"

The pine canopy spread the voices, first one and then the other, until
the wood was like a vast cathedral filled with the softest music of the
organ pipes.

There was nobody in sight at first, but as Agatha followed the path,
she presently saw a white arm and skirt projecting from behind the
trunk of a tree. Danny, wagging slowly, appeared to wish to make
friends, and before Agatha had time to wonder, the stranger emerged and
came toward her with outstretched hand.

"Ah, forgive me! I hid and then startled you; but I was tempted by the
song. And this forest temple--isn't it wonderful?"

Agatha looked at the stranger, suddenly wondering if she were not some
familiar but half-forgotten acquaintance of years agone. She was a
beautiful dark woman, probably two or three years older than herself,
mature and self-poised as only a woman of the cosmopolitan world can
be. It might be that compared to her Agatha was a bit crude and
unfinished, with the years of her full blossoming yet to come. She had
no words at the moment, and the older woman, still holding Agatha's
hand, explained.

"I did not mean to steal in upon you; but as I came into the grove I
heard you singing Haendel, and I couldn't resist listening. Your voice,
it is wonderful! Especially here!" As she looked into Agatha's face,
her sincere eyes and voice gave the praise that no one can resist, the
tribute of one artist to another.

"This is, indeed, a beautiful hall. I found it out just now by
accident, when I came up here to practice and see if I had any voice
left," said Agatha. She paused, as it suddenly occurred to her that
the visitor might be James Hambleton's sister and that she was being
deli