"I say," Norman was shouting, inwardly; "that night of bliss _was_ a night of bliss and _don't anybody try to say that it wasn't!_" For it was a night on which a young man's Soul was _back_; back in its own Mind, now full of God's incomparably grand _purity!_ * * * * * Lady Gadsby was visiting Nina, sitting in that big front parlor; Virginia sitting calmly rocking; (and, hmmm! That was about all Virginia _ought_ to do, just now!) A young High School girl, coming in, said;-- "Good morning! I'm soliciting for funds for a stadium for----" "_Marian!_" sang out Virginia, "_What's_ all this? _You_, soliciting?" "Why not?" said Marian, brightly. "Norman Antor's Organization of Youth; Part Two, is soli--" "Norman Antor's _what_?" and Virginia was all agog in an instant, as Marian Hopkins told all about it; and, with childish flippancy, forgot all about soliciting, saying:-- "I was told that Harold is giving flying instructions. Don't _you_ want to fly? My! _I_ do!" "I _did_," said Virginia, softly; "but,--not now;" and Marian was a bit too young to know why Lady Gadsby was smiling at Nina! As Nancy found out about this, on Lady Gadsby's coming back to lunch, that "old Branton Hills matron," as Gadsby found a lot of fun calling "his baby girl," now-a-days, said, giggling:-- "No! Virginia! You'll _stay on solid ground!_" XLII Lady Gadsby and His Honor sat in Branton Hills' First Church, on a hot July Sunday. Out-doors, twitting birds, lacy clouds, and gay blossoms, told of happy hours in this long, bright month. Pastor Brown, announcing a hymn, said:-- "This is a charming hymn. Our choir always sings it without company; but today, I want _all_ you good folks to join in. Just pour forth your joy and sing it, good and strongly." That hymn had six stanzas; and Gadsby, noting an actually _grand_ bass singing just back of him, thought of turning around, from curiosity; and as that fifth stanza was starting, said to Lady Gadsby:-- "Do you know who that is, singing that grand bass part?" Lady Gadsby didn't; but Lady Gadsby was a woman; and, from Noah's Ark to Branton Hills' First Church, woman, as a branch of Mankind, was curious. So a slow casual turning brought a dig in His Honor's ribs:-- "It's Norman Antor!" Pastor Brown, standing at that big church door as folks, filing out would stop for a word or two, said to Gadsby:-- "Young Antor is invariably in church, now-a-days. I may add to my choir, and am thinking of putting him in it. I'm so glad to find out about that boy winning his fight. I always _thought_ Norman would turn out all right." Pastor Brown was right; and two Branton Hills girls, a Salvation Army lady, and a tiny tot of six had won crowns of Glory, from throwing rays of light into two badly stagnant Minds. XLIII