--I
am just beginning--but I mean to be a true worshiper, myself."

He looked at her, and the gleam in his dark eyes softened.

"Forgive me," he said, "I spoke too strongly. Yes, I believe there is
reality--a little--somewhere," and he smiled. Something in her soft
brown eyes as he looked in them carried him many years back, when eyes
something like them looked down on him, while a voice sang sacred words
which he knew the heart loved well. Yes, there was reality somewhere.

CHAPTER IV

ADELE

Winifred awoke Tuesday morning with melody in her heart. She moved
about her room with the exhilaration of a fresh joy in living. She
took her Bible, which still wore the genteel, unsullied dress of a
stranger, and turned to the place she wished to read. She had not got
beyond the text of Sunday:

"The hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshiper shall worship the
Father in spirit and in truth."

She pondered the text. "Shall worship the Father," she mused. "Oh,
how sweet! That august One whom I feared is '_the Father_.' He loves
me!"

She went with her book to the open window and stood, a fair priestess
in her white morning dress, and looked out over a portion of her
Father's wide domain. Oh, how warm and bright the sunlight that lit
all things with glory! How fair were the distant hills beyond the
city, with their varied dress of wood and meadow! In the garden below,
how each group of flowers and the green sward answered with joy to the
caress of the sun. How exultantly the lilies stood, and she could
catch the incense from the bed of tiny clustering flowers nearest her
window. She lifted her face toward the sky of melting summer blue, and
sang softly:

"Holy, holy, holy; Lord God Almighty!
All Thy works shall praise Thy name,
in earth and sky and sea;
Holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty;
God in three persons, blessed Trinity!"

She looked again at the words whose entrance had given light, and read
farther: "For the Father seeketh such to worship Him."

"He has been seeking me!" she cried, and some glimmering apprehension
of the great love of the Father which seeks the fellowship of sincere
and simple children, made her bosom heave and her eyes fill with tears,
"_He loves me_," she repeated as before, and her heart nestled itself
in the great truth like a bird that has found its nest.

Presently she looked again from her window and saw Hubert walking in
the garden.