Beth came home thoughtful from her beautiful errand. She had begged to be allowed to go with Anna Mary and her aunt had willingly consented. Neither of her girls could have been induced to go. Aunt Alida thought that perhaps in little Beth there might develop the one who would best use the Cortlandt wealth, in the ways which she herself believed wealth must be used. She hoped that Beth’s unconscious goodness, her instinctive choice of the best, might, as time went on, bend Natalie and Alys into the unworldly women of the world which was Aunt Alida’s ideal of a woman of their class. She looked upon Beth as hers, as permanently and almost as really as were her own children. She was daily thankful for the little girl who fitted so perfectly into the household life and needs, in spite of her differences from it. Sunday morning--Easter Sunday--dawned the brightest day of all that week of summer brightness. “Get dressed early, Bethie,” Uncle Jim advised Beth at breakfast. “We must be well ahead of the service hour to get comfortably to our pew to-day. And here is your Easter card for the contribution box.” He handed Beth a crisp five dollar bill, of which he had provided four for the children. Beth took it with a smile of thanks. “I suppose some day I should get used to it,” she said, without explaining to what she referred. “At home the children usually have a nickel, children who are properly brought up. Aunt Rebecca scorns pennies. She says it’s a queer thing that Christians call religion the greatest thing in the world and hunt out the smallest coin there is to support it.” Frieda had been to church early that morning, so had Anna Mary. Frieda told Beth about the pretty German Easter customs which her mother had described to her, following up her description with two or three lovely German Easter legends, so that not only the hour of dressing seemed short, but Beth was attuned to Easter anthems when the limousine was driven to the door and she took her place in it with her back to the driver. Aunt Alida in her silvery green with dark green plumes on her white hat and Killarney roses in the lace on her breast, Natalie in the dull blue that brunettes may wear, Alys in her pale golden brown, how lovely they looked, Beth thought admiringly watching them as they drove along. “’Cute, n’est ce pas?” whispered Alys as, in turn, they watched Beth. “Perfectly darling face, so pretty and so dear!” returned Natalie warmly. Beth was totally unconscious of their approval as she happily watched the stream of carriages and cars slowly flowing up and down the avenue, and the crowds, gathering in density as they neared one of the great churches.