The quiet and solemnity of the place only added to the
sadness of her thoughts, and as the last hymn was being sung, the tears
gathered in her eyes and dropped silently down on her book.
Finally she could stand it no longer, but slipped down on her knees,
buried her face in the cushions, and fairly sobbed.
No one knew what was the matter, and Mrs. Dallas looked distressed,
fearing she was ill. Mr. Dallas leaned down toward her, and whispered,
"Are you ill, Dimple?"
But she shook her head, and when the hymn was ended, he drew her close
to him, and put his arm around her, while she kept her face hidden on
his shoulder.
No one could tell what ailed her, as every question only brought a fresh
burst of tears, and she walked home in silence.
It was not until they were in the house, that she could tell what
affected her.
Then her mother took her on her lap, and she had her cry out there,
while Florence and Rock, looking much concerned, stood by.
"Tell me, daughter, what ails you," her mother said, pushing back the
curls from the little tear-stained face.
"It was so solemn--and--I was thinking about everybody's going away
to-morrow," she said, between her sobs. "Then they sang--'Where friend
holds fellowship with friend. Though sundered far'--and all that--and I
couldn't stand it any longer," and the tears still rained down her face.
Pages:
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159