Her voice was a soft, sweet contralto, and had been carefully trained.
As she sounded the first note the silence in the room seemed deeper than
ever. Not a voice joined in to help her with the hymn, for the girls
were all spell-bound at such unexpected music.
With her eyes bent lovingly on her dead friend's face, Faith finished
the verse of the hymn she had selected, but as she reached the refrain
she raised her eyes beseechingly, and her glance fell directly upon the
bowed head of Mr. Denton.
"It profiteth nothing, and fearful the cost
To gain the Whole world if thy soul shall be lost--"
The words rang from her lips like the peal of a bell. There was prayer,
supplication, eagerness in every intonation.
As the last note died away several of the girls burst out crying, and
Mr. Denton raised his head and looked at her.
Faith took her seat calmly. The inspiration had not left her. She felt
lifted up in soul into a higher atmosphere, where there was no pain or
sorrow--only tenderness and rejoicing.
The rest followed swiftly. The last farewell to the departed; with poor
Dick moaning and sobbing, the ladies turned their footsteps homeward.
Faith caught a glimpse of Mr. Denton walking rapidly down the street.
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