St. John's voice; well, there was something in it different from other voices. There must have been a dim and distant echo of that company who rest not day nor night. It did not recall earth and vanity. It made a lift in the thoughts of those who heard it. Missy, amidst distraction and vexation, heard him, and in a moment felt that it was very little worth, all that had caused her smart and ache. When St. John read, people listened, whatever it was. Perhaps it was what is "sincerity" in art. He read in a monotone too, as does his school. He did not lift his eyes and look about him; he almost made a business of looking down. It was very simple; but maybe those who would analyze its power, would have to go far back into fasts and vigils and deep hours of meditation. Missy drew a long breath. She didn't care for Yellowcoats' gossip now, while she heard St. John's voice, and poured out her fretted soul in the prayers of her childhood. Perhaps she never knew how much she owed her brother, and those disapproved austerities of his. We do not always know what the saints win for us, nor how much the fuller we may be for our holy neighbor's empty stomach. And the children tumbled and twisted about on their seats, and Jay went to sleep, and Gabby eyed her neighbors, and Missy did not mind. It was well that she did not, for if she had reproved them, Yellowcoats would have whispered, what a step-mother is that, my brothers. And if she had caressed them, they would have jeered and said, see the pursuit, my sisters. But as she simply let them alone, they could say nothing, and settled themselves to listen to the sermon after the prayers were said. And in the sermon there was a word for Missy. It was an old word, as most good words are; Missy remembered copying it out years before, when it had seemed good to her, but now it seemed better and fuller: "Let nothing disturb thee, nothing surprise thee: "Everything passes: "God does not change: "Patience alone weareth out all things: "Whoso holds fast to God shall want for nothing: "God alone sufficeth." And "the benediction that followeth after prayer" seemed to her more than ever "A Christian charm, To dull the shafts of worldly harm." Even though the arm stretched out to bless were that of the young brother whose steps she had so often guided in their days of childhood.