She had forgotten, and Will did not know, that all the services could be heard through the floor. The worshippers assembled so quietly, that she was not aware of this, until Will's tones startled her with the idea that he was in the room. He commenced the exercises by reading the fourteenth chapter of John's gospel. "Let not your hearts be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in me." He offered neither comment nor explanation. He was a believer in what he called "the pure Word;" "if I can't comprehend one part," he was wont to say, "I comfort myself by thinking that there is so much that is plain even to my weak understanding." The quavering voice of an aged man led in prayer; and in spite of its verbiage and incorrect grammar, Ida listened, for it was sincere. They sang in the sweet voices for which the race is so remarkable, "There is a land of pure delight," with a wild, beautiful chorus, repeated each time with more emphasis and fervor-- "Oh sing to me of Heaven! In Heaven alone, no sin is known, And there's no parting there!" Ida shut her eyes and lay motionless, lest she should lose a note. Forgetful of her unholy enmity to her God--her distrust of her kind--borne upon the melody her soul arose to Pisgah's top, and looked yearningly upon the "sweet fields beyond the swelling flood," heard the jubilant song of the redeemed-- "In Heaven alone, no sin is known, And there's no parting there!" A solemn hush followed; and Will said, "Let us pray." His deliberate accents quickened into animation, with the unfolding of his petitions; spurning the fetters of his imperfect speech, his thoughts clothed themselves in the language of the Divine Word; coming to a King, be adopted unconsciously the vernacular of princes. In speaking of Ida, his manner was earnestly affectionate. "We beseech Thee, O Father, to deal gently with thine handmaid, whom thou hast set over us in worldly things. Thou hast seen fit that she should bear the yoke in her youth, hast made her to possess wearisome nights, and days of vanity; hast mingled her bread with tears, and her drink with weeping; Thou hast taken from her father and mother,--the hope of her soul, and the desire of her eyes; it is the Lord's doings, and it is marvellous in our eyes and in hers. Lighten her eyes, Our Father! though weeping has endured for a night, Thou hast promised that joy shall come in the morning; tell her, that no affliction for the present seemeth joyous, but grievous; but that Thou wilt make it work out for her an eternal weight of glory; that whom Thou lovest Thou chasteneth, and upon Thy Blessed Son Thou didst lay the afflictions and iniquities of us all. May her hungry soul run to Him, from the far country in which she has been living, and may He heal her broken bones, give her the oil of gladness for mourning--the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness."