ealed and her tongue bound, now that they are unstopped and loosed.
And I marvel if any voice in the choirs of the angels can be so sweet as
hers."

There was silence for a little while. Then Hester rose.

"I thank you very much for your kindness," she said. "I think I might
go home. The streets seem quieter now."

Avice went to the door, unlatched it, and peered forth into the night.

"Yes, there seems to be no noise in the direction of your quarter now.
I think you will be safe. But if you feel uneasy, you can stay the
night in this room."

"No, thank you," replied Hester gratefully. "I will not put you to that
trouble. You have been very good to me. May the God of Israel bless
you with His blessing!"

Avice felt rather uneasy. She had always been taught that Jews were
idolaters, and she never imagined that Hester could be blessing her in
the name of the one living God. She fancied that the benediction of
some horrible Moloch was being called down upon her, and feared it
accordingly. But she answered kindly, for unkindness was not in her
simple, loving, God-fearing heart. Hester went out, and latched the
door behind her.

"I am glad she is gone," said Bertha. "I could not feel easy while she
was here. Yet I could not have borne to turn her away without asking
you if you would take her in, Aunt. I hope we have not done wrong!"

"I hope not, indeed," replied Avice, who was not quite easy in her own
mind. "I wonder why it should be so wrong to pity Jews, and be kind to
them. It looks so different from all the other commands of our Lord."

Different, most truly! But such causes for wonder were likely to be
frequent enough, so long as men allowed the traditions of men to run
alongside of the infallible Word of God. And they had no power to read
for themselves the real words of the Lord, who had said to the father of
all Israel, "I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that
curseth thee."

But the influx of visitors was not yet over for the evening. Hester had
not been gone long when a heavy rap came on the door. "Come in!" said
Avice; and Uncle Dan appeared.

"Could you spare a chap a seat, think ye?" said he. "I've come for a
bit o' peace. We've got thunder and lightning and rain up at smithy.
_She's_ thunder, and Ankaret's lightning, and Mildred's rain, for she's
a-crying: and El'nor and me, we 're wet to skin wi' 't. So I put my cap
on and come here to dry me a bit."

Avice