“Where did you pick up a sense of humor, most rare gift of your sex, and why do you hide it away so carefully, Miss Christie?” “Indeed I don’t know; and I don’t mean to hide anything,” I answered rather foolishly. “And how did you like the sermon?” “I--I wasn’t listening much, Mr. Rayner.” “Not listening! A religious little girl like you not listening! I’m surprised--I really am.” His manner grew suddenly so grave, and he really seemed so much surprised, that I felt called upon to make a sort of profession. “I’m not really religious,” I said hurriedly. “I haven’t meant ever to pretend to be. But I do respect religion and religious people very much, and I hope some day I shall be able to enter into their feelings better than I can now. I do pray for it,” I ended, almost in a whisper. Mr. Rayner took my hand very kindly. “It will come, child, it will come,” he said gravely and quite paternally. “Go on quietly doing your duty as you do, and the blessing will come in due time.” He said it so simply, without any attempt at preaching, that I felt I looked up to him more naturally than even to a clergyman, being quite sure now that he acquitted me of any intention to be hypocritical. And when, after tea, he asked me to accompany his violin on the piano while he played Mozart’s Twelfth Mass, the fervor which he put into the beautiful music inspired me with a corresponding exaltation of feeling, such as no sacred music had ever woke in me before. At the end of the evening Mrs. Rayner wished me good-night and glided softly from the room before I had finished putting the music in order, as Mr. Rayner had asked me to do. When I rose from bending over the canterbury, still flushed with the excitement caused by the music, Mr. Rayner held out his hand with a grave smile. “You are the best accompanist I have ever met; you catch the spirit of this sacred music perfectly. To-morrow night I shall prove whether you are so accomplished a reader of secular music. Good night, my dear child.” And he bent down to kiss me. But I shrank back slightly, and so evaded him, trying at the same time to make my movement seem unconscious; and, with a smiling “Good-night,” I left the room.