The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1891-07-12
WHISPERS IN CHURCH.
They Play rarl in Bringing
Hearts together.
lily &. j. Nesscomb.

Ing their CneeFy welcome on Inc frosty
air Pious souls, clad in furs and vel
vets and other ferns Of modern purple
aad fine linen were hurrying to reach
the scenes OF their deyotions.
Foster Willard was not a pious soul,
and he did not hurry. He was not sure
that he was going to church at all, and
no sauntered leisurely along, with his
hands in his overcoat pockets and his
big collar turned high around his
throat.
What world it was, to be sure, and
what q fool--but, pshaw!--that was all
over now, and he was glad of it.
AT this moment he BECAME aware of a
slight figure enveloped in fur coming
down the cross street, and they met at
the corner. She held out her hand with
q gesture that bespoke embarrassment
and uncertainty, and he took it gravely.
II believe" he said, s'it is quite year
since saw you last, Edith
eyes, . she said.
Willard turned and joined her in her
walk.
..And believe" he continued, s'that |
am very glad to see you"
Miss Arnold was silent on this point.
.'You might, perhaps, say as much, I"
suggested Willard.
"Are you going to church, asked Miss
Arnold.
well, don't know, that is, / will go
if you take me with yoH."
Miss Arnold hesitated moment.
"Why, of course. if you like, she said.
Why shouldn't he like, wondered Mil
lard. A pretty girl, good music and lots
of people? What difference did it make
that once--stuffi He had forgotten all
that. and Of course she had.
Have You heard the new rector" in
quired Miss Arnold, evidently with an
attempt at conversation.
NO." said Willard. 81 have not been
there am a heather. You arc mis-
sionary. Perhaps / am an angel un-
awares though"
Miss Arnold laughed.
.sThat's a trife mixed, isn't it?" she
said.
"Well, perhaps admitted Willard
ssrm not up in that sort of thing"
"But you used to go to church,
Eyes, did-when you took me. l
have degenerated. If your theology ad-
rnits of backsliding, have backslided.
l am now distinctly heather"
Miss Arnold laughed again.
"0n the contrary, / think you have
improved she said.
.sAhi' said Willard, with faint sar-
casm, 81 really was not looking for a
compliment"
They reached the church and the usher
showed them to seat. Miss Arnold
kneeled on the cushion and leaned her
head on her little prayer book against
the pew in front. Willard watched her
silently, as he had done so many times
before. She made pretty picture
dainty, fur wrapped and devout, and
the hand that held the prayer book was
very small indeed. One little lock of
hair had squirmed away from restrain
ing hairpins and was curling prettily
near her pink ear. He felt curious de-
sire to put it in place. and then he be-
came conscious of two voices speaking
behind him in not inaudible whispers.
ssIsn't that Foster Willard with Edith
Arnold in front Of us?" asked somebody.
"Why, sure enough it isl" said some
body else. 81 thought she Tilted him a
year ago."
"Hush, he will hear you'll"
"They must have made it up. Queer,
isn't it?''
The choir began to sing again, and the
people all rose. Willard heard no more.
Edith held her prayer book up to him,
and they read the responses out of it..
Like those flashes Of previous existence
that the philosophers talk about, it all
came back to hiln--intangible, indefinite,
and yet familiar How often he had
heard that smooth, full voice, reading
the same old, sweet words of the Episco-
pal service. He seemed to take up the
thread Of life q year back, as if the year
just passed had been dream from
which he was now awakening.
The TIE Deum was over and they sat
down again. Presently the two women
behind began to whisper again. Edith
was intent upon the service.
"Pretty bonnet she has, said one.
"a trifie too high, | think. They say
she threw Howard Gale over too. Idon't
see what those men find in her. She is
a perfect firt."
For that reason probably they like
her.
81 suppose Mr.. Willard took it too
easily, and she wants to dangle him
again"
bangle him?"
ssYes. You know what / mean--keep
him around and abuse him"
Hush! I'm afraid he heard you"
mo, he didn't 1t would be good
warning to him, anyway"
Willard moved uneasily, and the whis-
pers broke off suddenly. He wondered
if Edith had heard them. He glanced at
her, and she looked so unconscious that
he concluded she had not.
The rector had commenced his sermon,
and she was giving close attention.
Willard listened awhile, but it did not
interest him. He seemed to have heard
Jne same sermon a thousand pl1nes, anu
his thoughts wandered away into other
channels. They went back to the days