Kneeling humbly by the humble bed, he said his prayer; then raised his head, and softly, softly, a golden thread of sound--sure no one could hear!--his voice stole out in the hymn she had loved best: "There is rest for the weary, There is rest for the weary, There is rest for the weary, There is rest for you! "On the other side of Jordan, In the green fields of Eden, Where the tree of life is blooming, There is rest for your soul!" Pippin rose and stood for some moments looking down on the quiet face; then he made his reverence--bowing lower than usual, with a gesture of his hands as if taking leave of something high and noble--and turned away. Closing the door softly, he paused, looking into the darkness of the passage with wistful eyes. He was very, very lonely; his heart was sad as death. Could he--might he not, once more, call up to comfort him the shadow faces he had loved so well? Now? Just this once! He bent forward, his eyes fixed intently. "Ma!" he said softly. "You there?" A moment's pause; then a sob broke from him and he turned to go. But then--oh, then!--came a rustle of something soft, came a flash of something white. Two arms were flung round his neck, pressing him close, close; a radiant head lay on his shoulder. "Will I do?" cried Mary Blossom. "Oh, Pippin, Pippin! Will I do instead?" CHAPTER XXV PIPPIN OVERCOMES "Well, how about it?" said John Aymer. A council was being held in the pleasant parlor with the rose-colored shades. John Aymer, Lucy his wife, and Lawrence Hadley, his wife's brother, were sitting together, talking of things with which we have some concern. "How about it?" repeated the hardware merchant. He planted both elbows on his knees, rested his chin on his hands, and, as he would have said, squared away for action. The others looked up inquiringly. "Pippin is your hunt, Larry, and from your point of view--and his--he is on the right track, and it's all highcockolorum Erin go Bragh. But Mary is our hunt, Lucy's and mine, and we don't feel so sure about all this." "I do part of the time, John!" Mrs. Aymer spoke with a certain timidity, unlike her usual gay decisiveness. "When I talk with Larry, or see Pippin--even just look at him--it seems all as right as right; but then--" "But then you look at Mary, and it doesn't. See here, Lar!" John Aymer laid down his pipe, a token of strong interest with him. "Pippin is what you call a mystic and I call a glorified crank. All he wants in the world--beside Mary--is a chance to help, as he says; and it's great. I know it is, and I'm proud to know the chap, and all that. But that _isn't_ all Mary wants!" The chaplain looked up with a grave nod of comprehension.