"She never loved me heartily before," thought Lizzy, as she sang. "I never deserved it. I was a heartless dog. I"-- People applauded again, the old grandfather this time nodding to the girls. There was something so cheery and healthy and triumphant in the low tones. Even the young mother looked up suddenly from her boy, listening, and glanced at her husband. It was like a Christmas-song. "She never loved me before. I deserve it." That was what she said in it. But they did not know. Doctor Blecker looked at her, unsmiling, critical. She could see, too, a strange face beside him,--a motherly, but a keen, harsh-judging face. "Grey," said Mrs. Sheppard, "I wish we could go behind the scenes. Can we? I want to talk to Lizzy this minute." "To tell her she is at the Devil's work, Mrs. Sheppard, eh?" Doctor Blecker pulled at his beard, angrily. "Suppose you and I let her alone. We don't understand her." "I think I do. God help her!" "We will go round when the song is over," said Grey, gently. Lizzy, scanning their faces, scanning every face in pit or boxes, discerned a good will and wish on each. Something wholesome and sound in her heart received it, half afraid. "I don't know," she thought. One of the windows was open, and out beyond the gas-light and smells of the theatre she could see a glimpse of far space, with the eternal stars shining. There had been once a man who loved her: he, looking down, could see her now. If she had stayed at home, selfish and useless, there might have been a chance for her yonder. Her song was ended; as she drew back, she glanced up again through the fresh air. They were curious words the soul of the girl cried out to God in that dumb moment:--"Even as the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many." Yet in that moment a new feeling came to the girl,--a peace that never left her afterwards. An actress: but she holds her work bravely and healthily and well in her grasp, with her foot always on a grave, as one might say, and God very near above. And it may be, that, when her work is nearer done, and she comes closer to the land where all things are clearly seen at last in their real laws, she will know that the faces of those who loved her wait kindly for her, and of whatever happiness has been given to them they will not deem her quite unworthy. Perhaps they have turned Lizzy out of the church. I do not know. But her Friend, the world's Christ, they could not make dead to her by shutting him up in formula or church. He never was dead. From the girding sepulchre he passed to save the spirits long in prison; and from the visible church now he lives and works out from every soul that has learned, like Lizzy, the truths of life,--to love, to succor, to renounce. * * * * * BY THE RIVER. I.