lac Lady's plans, Elizabeth gladly resigned the cantata
music, expressed her sincere thanks by kissing Peace warmly--for she
knew, of course, that whatever beautiful plans the young crippled
neighbor might have, they were prompted by the active brain under the
bobbing brown curls--and returned with a lighter heart to her vigil over
Glen.

Miss Chase was glad to lend the children to Hill Street Church, and they
were overjoyed at the idea of being loaned. As they proved to be apt
pupils, they were already quite familiar with the beautiful songs by the
time the original chorus members put in appearance at the parsonage for
the afternoon's rehearsal. At first, the regular scholars were inclined
to criticize the new plans which dragged in the little Home waifs; but
Aunt Pen, who had readily agreed to help, was very tactful, the lame
girl very lovable, and in a few minutes all the objections had been
swept aside and harmony reigned supreme. Then they settled down to hard
work, and how they did practise! Aunt Pen played the piano, Giuseppe
took up the refrain on his violin, and the great stone house fairly rang
with the chorus of the hundred or more voices. Indifference melted into
interest, and interest into enthusiasm. Before the afternoon had drawn
to a close, every heart present was fairly aching for the coming of
Children's Sunday with its beautiful service of song, and the Lilac Lady
was triumphant.

"But who will take Miss Kinney's part?" frowned Marjorie Hopper, the
deacon's granddaughter. "She told papa last night that she simply
washed her hands of the whole affair."

"Never you fret," said Peace, nodding her head sagely. "Let her wash!
We've got someone to take it who can sing lots prettier than she ever
thought of doing."

"Not Mildred--"

"No, Mildred's got her own part, but--"

There was a sudden movement in the invalid's chair, and the lame girl
sat up with a most becoming blush tinting the waxen cheeks. "Can you
keep a secret, children?" she asked.

"Of course!" they shouted, gathering around her to hear what the secret
might be.

"Well, I am going to--"

"Take Miss Kinney's place," finished Tony, with a deep sigh of
anticipated pleasure.

"I knew she'd do it!" crowed Peace, dancing a jig for pure joy.

"Will you?" asked Marjorie.

"Would you like it?"

"Like it! Well, I guess yes!" they shouted again.

"You can beat Miss Kinney all hollow," added George with blunt, boyish
admiration.

"I