"She told me all about the doll and doll-things you sent her," Tilly answered, resorting to subterfuge with no little skill. "Let a child like that start to talk about her playthings and she will run on all day. She didn't stay very long. She said she had work to do at home." From the sudden change of his face, Tilly comprehended the relief that must have swept through him at that moment. He glanced toward the center of the town where a cluster of lights threw a glow on the sky. "There is a show under a tent on Main Street to-night," he said. "It may not be much good, but it is something to go to. Suppose we walk over? It isn't very far. When it is out we can stop at Tilman's ice-cream and soda-water parlor and take something cool." "No"--Tilly shook her head--"let's stay at home." "But why? Listen! That's them now!" There was a sound of a brass band playing in the direction of the lights, the blare of horns, and the beating of drums. "They always play outside the tent to draw a crowd. Why don't you want to go, little girl?" "You said you were tired." "Who, me? Good gracious! Now that I've had my supper I feel like a fighting-cock. We'd better go. You are staying in too close, anyway." CHAPTER XXVII There seemed no way to avoid accepting the invitation, and she went into the cottage for a light shawl. Then they locked up their little house and started away. Tilly held his arm. She tried to fancy that they were taking one of the unforgettable strolls along the mountain roads at Cranston which had led to their union, but the illusion refused to abide with her, for at Cranston he had been care-free, full of hope and joy, and now his every word seemed to exude from a heart surcharged with pain. How she loved him, now that she better understood the Sinister fate that was scourging him so relentlessly! Ahead of them they saw a tent. It was lighted. "That is not the one," John explained. "That is a tabernacle revival meeting. Sam goes every night. He doesn't believe in it any more than I do, down inside of himself, I mean; but he goes and tries to get the boys to go. That would suit your father. That preacher throws off his coat and dares the barkeepers to meet him in a fist-to-fist, knock-down, drag-out match on his platform. We must go, too. How about to-morrow night?" "But--but you don't believe in such meetings," Tilly answered.