like after a hearty meal it is
hymn-singing. It takes me back to the good old camp-meeting days when
everybody, young and old, sang, and even shouted when the spirit was on
them."

Tilly and her mother came in. The girl went to the organ on which her
father was placing the lamp, and sat on the stool. The light fell on her
face and John, sitting against the wall on her right, had a full view of
it and her graceful figure. Her father had opened the song-book and
placed it on the music-rack. Her slender fingers rested on the yellow
keys; the red welt on her hand showed plainly, and John wondered if it
pained her much. There was no way of deciding, for she showed no sign of
suffering. She began to pump the organ with her little feet. She drew
out the stops and began to play. She did it badly, but there were no
expert musical critics in the room. Whaley and his wife stood behind her
and both of them sang loudly. Cavanaugh had never heard the song, and so
he did not take active part, though John saw him beating time with his
finger and now and then contributing a suitable bass note. Cavanaugh was
delighted with the hymn.

"Why don't you join in, little girl?" he asked, gently, as he beamed on
Tilly.

"I can't sing and play at the same time," she explained, modestly,
catching John's attentive stare and avoiding it, her brown lashes
flickering.

They sang some old familiar hymns now, and all three of the singers
joined in together.

"I tell you we make a good trio," Whaley exulted. "You've got a roaring
bass, Brother Cavanaugh. We'll surprise the natives some night at
prayer-meeting. We'll set to one side like and spring it on 'em all at
once."

John felt like an alien in the religious and musical atmosphere and was
somewhat irritated by the announcement later from Whaley that he always
had a chapter read from the Bible and a prayer before going to bed, and,
as he believed in retiring early, he suggested that they have the
service over with. Accordingly, he removed the lamp from the organ to
the table, and from the sitting-room brought a big family Bible. A
further surprise was in store for John, for Whaley placed a chair under
the lamplight and called on his daughter to sit in it. He smiled coldly
as she obeyed and opened the Bible. "You may think it odd,
Brother--er--Cavanaugh--you've got a hard name to remember, sir. I say,
you may think it odd for me to call on my daughter to read out loud this
way. I admit it isn