It was sweet in you to give me
your whole afternoon."
The dinner-bell rang at that moment, and the two went down together.
"Come for a little run; I haven't been out all day," whispered
Rosamond, slipping her hand into Betty's as they left the table.
A great round moon swung cold and bright over the pines by the lodge.
"Down the road a bit--just a little way--to the church," suggested
Betty.
They stepped out into the silent country road.
"Why, the little mission is as gay as--as Christmas! I wonder why?"
Betty glanced at the bright windows of the small plain church. "Oh,
some Christmas-eve doings," she answered.
Some one stepped quickly out from the church door.
"Oh, Miss Vernon, I am relieved! I had begun to fear you could not
come."
The girls saw it was the tall old rector, his white hair shining silver
bright in the moonbeams.
"We're just two girls from the school, sir," said Rosamond.
"Dear, dear!" His voice was both impatient and distressed. "I hoped you
were my organist. We are all ready for our Christmas-eve service, but
we can do nothing without the music."
"I can play the organ a little," said Betty. "I'd be glad to help."
"You can? My dear child, how fortunate! But--do you know the service?"
"Yes, sir, it's my church."
No vested choir stood ready to march triumphantly chanting into the
choir stalls.
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