ttle difficulty, she laid two fresh lilies by the side of the
sculptured one, across the clasped hands of the child's figure.

'There,' she said in a hushed voice; 'you shan't always hold a cold dead
lily, Violet dear; I've brought them to you from my own self, because
they're mine, and I'll get you some other flowers when they are dead.'

She put her soft red lips down and left a kiss on the little clasped
hands, and then slipped down to the ground again, where she stood for a
moment looking up at the stained window above. A noise startled her:
walking up the middle aisle was the lady who had played to her before,
and following her a rough country boy, who disappeared through a little
door behind the organ.

Betty slipped behind a pillar, and watched eagerly. Yes, she was going
to play again; and her heart beat high with expectation. She crept into
one of the high, old-fashioned pews, and sitting on a hassock, leant her
little head back upon the seat, and prepared herself to listen.

The music began, and sent a little shiver of delight through Betty's
soul. The long, soft notes that died away like a summer breeze, the
deep, grand rolls that seemed to come from a cavern below, and then blend
with the clear, sweet echoes rising and falling, and at length ascending
in a burst of praise and gladness--it seemed to her that the angels above
would be stooping to listen to such strains.

And then, after a little, the lady began to sing; and Betty drew in one
deep breath after another. It must be an angel, surely! and yet there
was something in the fresh holland dress and shady hat of the singer this
afternoon that seemed hardly suitable for an angel's apparel.

The lady once looked round; and Betty thought her face looked sad; but
when she began to sing her face was illumined with such light and
gladness that the child watched it entranced.

An hour passed, and then the singer was startled by the sound of a sob.
She was singing 'Oh, that I had wings like a dove!' and turning round,
was startled at the sight of a white sun-bonnet and two small hands
grasping the back of one of the pews. Betty had mounted on the hassock
to have a full view of the singer long ago, and was now trying in vain to
restrain the pent-up feelings of her sensitive little soul.

In an instant the lady had left her seat and come up to the child.

'What is the matter, little one? How did you find your way in here?' she
asked gently, as she p