At the conclusion of the sermon the rector with a slight tremor in his
mellifluous voice pronounced the benediction. Amarilly's eyes shone with
a light that Lord Algernon's most eloquent passages could never have
inspired.
The organ again gave forth its rich tones, and a young, fair-haired boy
with the face of a devotee arose and turned toward the congregation, his
face uplifted to the oaken rafters. A flood of sunshine streamed through
the painted window and fell in long slanting rays upon the spiritual
face. The exquisite voice rose and fell in silvery cadence, the soft
notes fluting out through the vast space and reaching straight to
Amarilly's heart which was beating in unison to the music. "Oh," she
thought wistfully, "if Pete Noyes was only like him!"
She responded to the offertory with a penny, which lay solitary and
outlawed on the edge of a contribution plate filled with envelopes and
bank bills. The isolated coin caught the eye of the young rector as he
received the offerings, and his gaze wandered wonderingly over his
fashionable congregation. It finally rested upon the small, eager-eyed
face of his washerwoman's daughter, and a look of angelic sweetness came
into his brown eyes with the thought: "Even the least of these!"
Colette, statuesque and sublime, caught the flash of radiance that
illumined the face of her pastor, and her heart-strings responded with a
little thrill.
There was another fervent prayer in low, pleading tones, after which
followed the recessional, the choir-boys chanting their solemn measures.
Amarilly in passing out saw John, clad in a long, tight-fitting black
garment, standing at the church door.
"He's got another costume fer the afterpiece," she thought admiringly.
"He must be a lightning change artist like the one down to the vawdyveel
that Pete was tellin' of!"
Then two wonderful, heart-throbbing things happened. John took
Amarilly's saffron-clad hand in his and told her in earnest, convincing
tones how glad he was that she had come, and that he should look for her
every Sunday.
"He held up the hull p'rade fer me!" she thought exultingly.
As he was speaking to her his gaze wandered away for a second; in that
infinitesimal space of time there came into his eyes a dazzling flash of
light that was like a revelation to the sharp-eyed little girl, who,
following the direction of his glance, beheld Colette. Then came the
second triumph. Colette, smiling, shook hands with her and praised her
attire.
"Did you like the service, Amarilly?" she whispered. "Was it like the
theatre?"