Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1895-12-12

hear to re-enter the house he had left so
sanguinely a few moments before, but
comfiture was the more complete since ne
felt that his defeat was owing TO some
mistake in his methods. and not the incor-
rigibility of his subject.
Was it not spiritual weakness in him to
have resented 50 sharply the girls imputa-
ton that he wished to make love to her !:
He should have borne 1t as Christians had
even before now borne SANDER and false
testimony for their faith. He might even
have accepted it, and let the triumph OF her
conversion in the end prove his innocence.
Or was his purpose Incompatible with that
sisterly affection he had SO often preached
to the women of his flock? He might have
taken her hand, and called her sister
Pepita," even as he had called Deborah
sister" He recalled the fact that ne had
for an instant held her struggling in his
arms; he remembered the thrill that the
recollection had caused him, and somehow
it now sent a burning blush across his face.
He hurried back into the house.
The next day a thousand wild ideas took
the place of his former settled resolution.
He would seek the padre, this custodian of
the young girls soul; he would be-
seech him to give him an equal access
to her spirit! He would seek the I'M
Gle of the girl and work upon his
feelings. He would begin his mission
airy work with Conception. and then enlist
her in the task of saving Pepita's soul But
remembering the old woman's singular con-
duct-by the light of Pepita's revelation--he
shrank from her questioning glances. A
dreadful suspicion that she might have
OWNED some secret impelling power in his
nature. that he had not dreamed of himself,
began to haunt him.
Then, for three or four days, he resolved
to put the young girl from his mind.
One evening his heart leaped at the
familiar sound CT Pepita's guitar in the dis
lance. Whatever his ultimate inten lion
now, he hurriedlyD ran. into the garden.
The sound came from the former direction,
but as he unhesitatlngy approached the
mission wall, he could see that she was not
upon it, and as the notes of her guitar were
struck again, he knew that they came from
the other side. ButEthe chords were a pre-
lrde to one of his own hymns and he stood
entranced as her sweet child-like voice
rose with the very words that he had sung.
The few defects We're those Of purely oral
imitation, the accents, even the slight re-
iteration of the So were Pepita's own:
Cheeldren oof the Heavenly King,
AS ye journey essweetly ssing;
Essing your great Redeemer's praise,
Glorioos is Hees works and ways.
He was astounded. Her recollection of
the air and the words was the more Won
derful, for he remembered now that he had
only sung that particular hymn once. But
to his still greater delight and surprise her
voice rose again in the second verse, with
a touch Of plaintiveness that swelled. his
throat:
We are travelling home to God,
In the way our farzers trod:
They are happy now, and we
Soon their happiness shall see.
The simple, almost childish words here
died away with assweep and crash of the
whole strings Breathless silence followed,
in which Stephen Masterton could feel the
bea tings of his own heart.
Miss Ramirez he called, in voice that
scarcely seemed his own. There was no
reply. ..Pepita!' he repeated; it was
strangely like the accent Of a lover, but he
no longer carel. Still the singers voice was
silent.
Then he ran swiftly beside the wall, as he
had seer her run, until he came to the ifs
sure. 1t was overgrown with vines and
brambles, almost as impenetrable as an