breath. This was not a song. This was the
throbbing of a heart; and it throbbed in tones of such sweetness, that
tears started unbidden.

Then the voice, which had rendered the opening lines so quietly, rose
in a rapid crescendo of quivering pain.

"Each hour a pearl, each pearl a prayer,
To still a heart in absence wrung;
I tell each bead unto the end, and there--
A cross is hung!"

The last four words were given with a sudden power and passion which
electrified the assembly. In the pause which followed, could be heard
the tension of feeling produced. But in another moment the quiet voice
fell soothingly, expressing a strength of endurance which would fail in
no crisis, nor fear to face any depths of pain; yet gathering to itself
a poignancy of sweetness, rendered richer by the discipline of
suffering.

"O memories that bless and burn!
O barren gain and bitter loss!
I kiss each bead, and strive at last to learn
To kiss the cross ... to kiss the cross."

Only those who have heard Jane sing THE ROSARY can possibly realise how
she sang "I KISS EACH BEAD." The lingering retrospection in each word;
breathed out a love so womanly, so beautiful, so tender, that her
identity was forgotten--even by those in the audience who knew her
best--in the magic of her rendering of the song.

The accompaniment, which opens with a single chord, closes with a
single note.

Jane struck it softly, lingeringly; then rose, turned from the piano,
and was leaving the platform, when a sudden burst of wild applause
broke from the audience. Jane hesitated, paused, looked at her aunt's
guests as if almost surprised to find them there. Then the slow smile
dawned in her eyes and passed to her lips. She stood in the centre of
the platform for a moment, awkwardly, almost shyly; then moved on as
men's voices began to shout "Encore! 'core!" and left the platform by
the side staircase.

But there, behind the scenes, in the semi-darkness of screens and
curtains, a fresh surprise awaited Jane, more startling than the
enthusiastic tumult of her audience.

At the foot of the staircase stood Garth Dalmain. His face was
absolutely colourless, and his eyes shone out from it like burning
stars. He remained motionless until she stepped from the last stair and
stood close to him. Then with a sudden movement he caught her by the
shoulders and turned her round.

"Go back!" he said, and the overmastering need quivering in his v