The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-04-20

know right from wrong"
Evelyn too rose, and took up her
hat from side table, for it was near
the time for service.
81 shall never feel shocked" she
quietly replied, "by anything you may
say to me. 1 don't set UP to be an
authority: but I am older than you,
and 1 am a woman who has had a
bitter experience. When we know
each other better. I may tell you
about it,
Eyes. I thank you from the bot
tom Of my heart. I am in a difficult
ty' at this moment. I have thought
about it a great deal, and it seems
to me that 1t has all come without
my own fault. I find myself Of a
sudden in grave dilemma, whose
life was always so simple and so
straightforward! Somehow, 1 think
Olive Fletcher has been sent to be a
help to me in making up my own
mind
The keen cold wind had swept the
sky bare of clouds when they came
out of the cottage, except in the west.
where banks of amethyst were glow
ing on their upper edge with the fur
mace fires of the westering sun. The
two girls walked together along the
steep village street, and into the mis-
sion chapel. Vernon slipped into a
place not far from her friends seat
at the organ, and kneeling down, set
herself with fervor to recapture her
mood of the first time of entering
there.
1t was not easy. Life glowed and
shook like a kaleidoscope. in ever
shifting hues and forms. Her friend
ship with Evelyn, her sudden plunge
into the Way of Sorrows through the
agency Of the light, non-moral crea-
ture who had accomplished the mira
Gle of motherhood-her happy life at
Carronlea, unspoiit even by surly Jem
Lionel and his devotion-the devo-
ton that was going to be so difficult
to settle with!
It all formed a pageant Of varying
color but immense interest. Her soul
could not fight its way out and
through, to the Inner Shrine, where
as erst, God waited for her.
But, as before. she found that she
stiffness, the atmosphere that enfold-
ed her, was helping her. By degrees
the roit of the ina gination was stilied,
as the tempest on the Lake of Cali
lee,, and in the darkness One APP
preached her, walking upon the trou-
bled waters. :
ST wonder" thought the girl to her
self, after the entrance of the priest
and a small choir had put term to
her silent communion. "I wonder if
this is what they call conversion? The
whole of life seems to have different
values"
The sermon was not properly a SER
mon at all, but an instruction. Father
Conroy was carefully taking his hear
ers through the list of their Christian
duties as unfolded in the Creeds. He
had almost completed the course, and
the instruction that night was upon
the Eucharist. Vernon had never in
all her life heard a sermon upon this
subject before. 1t was like the an
swer to her hearts unspoken ques-
tion-How shall go on. What must
do next?
1t filled her soul with so many
tumultuous thoughts. it seemed a
thing of SO vast an Importance. that
she felt shaken through and through,
hardly conscious Of outward things,
as she emerged from the little build
ing and went across the road to the
place where she always stabbed her
horse. and where she put on and off
the riding skirt which had been made
for her to wear over her walking
dress, that she might go about the
village unencumbered.
When she was ready, ard was lead
ing the Sultana forth, she saw a sad
dle-horse waiting for her at the gate.
1t was dusk under the shadow of a
big tree, and she spoke to the man
who held the gate open for her, in a
voice that seemed to herself to come
from far away.
Thank you, Brooke. I hope you
haven't been waiting long"
Its me-" said Jem. "I hope you
don't mind. 1 had to come over here
on business, and I told aunt that I
would bring you back
You are very kind I did not know
you were home from Yeominster,"
said Vernon, coldly and awkwardly.
"I got back soon after lunch,'' he
replied gloomily.
She submitted to be mounted by
him, and they rode away at a foot
pace up the steep hill together.
The sight Of him brought back the
girls thought in sharp and unpleas-
ant descent from the heights to which
she had climbed. She experienced
that sense of being thrown back up
on herself which usually has the
prosaic effect of making one lose ones
temper. Could there be a less con-
genial companion to her new
thoughts, her freshly formed aspira-