One of two
had a wan ascetic look, such as the saints may have had when the terror
of life was known to them only in the imaginings of the cloister. The
canons of the church followed in their more gorgeous vestments, and
finally the officiating clergy.
The music was beautiful. There was about it a staid, sad dignity; and it
seemed to Margaret fit thus to adore God. But it did not move her. She
could not understand the words that the priests chanted; their gestures,
their movements to and fro, were strange to her. For her that stately
service had no meaning. And with a great cry in her heart she said that
God had forsaken her. She was alone in an alien land. Evil was all about
her, and in those ceremonies she could find no comfort. What could she
expect when the God of her fathers left her to her fate? So that she
might not weep in front of all those people, Margaret with down-turned
face walked to the door. She felt utterly lost. As she walked along the
interminable street that led to her own house, she was shaken with sobs.
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