resent
remained to all that crowd of poor and ignorant and needy humanity.
Even their comfort of prayer forbidden; except such comfort as each
believer might take by himself alone.

I did not know, I never did know till long after, how to many at
Magnolia that prohibition wrought no harm. I think Margaret knew, and
even then did not dare tell me. How the meetings for prayer were not
stopped. How watch was kept on certain nights, till all stir had
ceased in the little community; till lights were out in the overseer's
house (and at the great house, while we were there); and how then,
silently and softly from their several cabins, the people stole away
through the woods to a little hill beyond the cemetery, quite far out
of hearing or ken of anybody; and there prayed, and sang too, and
"praised God and shouted," as my informant told me; not neglecting all
the while to keep a picket watch about their meeting-place, to give
the alarm in case anybody should come. So under the soft moonlight
skies and at depth of night, the meetings which I had supposed broken
up, took new life, and grew, and lived; and prayers did not fail; and
the Lord hearkened and heard.

It would have comforted me greatly if I could have known this at the
time. But, as I said, I supposed Margaret dared not tell me. After a
long time of weary tossing and heartache, sleep came at last to me;
but it brought Pete and his wife and the overseer and Margaret in new
combinations of trouble; and I got little refreshment.

"Now you have waked up, Miss Daisy?" said Margaret when I opened my
eyes. "That poundin' noise has done waked you!"

"What noise?"

"It's no Christian noise," said Margaret. "What's the use of turnin'
the house into a clap of thunder like that? But a man was makin' it o'
purpose, for I went out to see; and he telled me it was to call folks
to luncheon. Will you get up, Miss Daisy?"

Margaret spoke as if she thought I had much better lie still; but I
was weary of the comfort I had found there and disposed to try
something else. I had just time to be ready before Dr. Sandford came
for me and took me to his sister-in-law. Mrs. Sandford welcomed me
with great kindness, even tenderness; exclaimed at my growth; but I
saw by her glance at the doctor that my appearance in other respects
struck her unfavourably. He made no answer to that, but carried us off
to the luncheon-room.

There were other people lodging in the house besides my friends; a