The benediction held a tenderness that fairly compelled the waiting

congregation to attend with their hearts.

* * * * * "Let's go over there and hear that girl play," suggested Laurie

suddenly, "Church is out and we'll make her play the bells. They're

simply great. She's some player!"

Opal leaned back in her chair and regarded him through the fringes of

her eyelashes, laughing a silvery peal that shivered into the reverence

of the benediction like a shower of icicles going down the back.

Marilyn heard and blended the Amen into the full organ to break the

shock as the startled congregation moved restlessly, with half unclosed

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eyes. Elder Harricutt heard, shut his eyes tighter, and pressed severe

lips together with resistance. This doubtless was that woman they

called Cherry. That irreverent Mark Carter must be close at hand. And

on the rose-vined porch Laurence Shafton felt the sting of the laugh

and drew himself together: "Oh, Laurie, Laurie!" she mocked, "You might as well be dead at

Saybrook Inn or imprisoned for killing a family as fall in love with

that girl. She isn't at all your kind. How would you look singing

psalms? But come on, I'm game! I can see how she'll hate me. Can you

walk?"

They sauntered slowly over to the church in the fragrant darkness, he

leaning on a cane he had found by the door. The kindly, curious people

coming out eyed them interestedly, looking toward the two cars in front

of the parsonage, and wondered. It was a neighborhood where everybody

took a kindly interest in everybody else, and the minister belonged to

them all. Nothing went on at his house that they did not just love and

dote on.

"Seems to me that girl has an awful low-necked dress for Sunday night,"

said Mrs. Little to Mrs. Jones as they walked slowly down the street,

"Did you catch the flash of those diamonds on her neck and fingers?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Jones contemptuously, "paint on her face too, thick as

pie crust. I saw her come. She drove her own car and her dresses were

up to her knees, and such stockings! With stripes like lace in them!

And little slippers with heels like knitting needles! I declare, I

don't know what this generation is coming to! I'm glad my Nancy never

wanted to go away to boarding school. They say it's terrible, the

boldness of young girls nowadays."

"Well, if you'd ask me, I'd say she wasn't so very

young!" declared Mrs. Little. "The light from the church door

was full in her face when I was coming down the steps, and she looked

as if she'd cut her eye teeth sometime past."




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