Radiant in her joy at having her brother home again, Philippa kept breaking into little snatches of song whenever there was a pause in the conversation. She thought she had never known such a happy Thanksgiving.
"How nice and homelike it all is!" Alec exclaimed, sniffing the savoury odours that rushed in from the kitchen, of turkey and mince turnovers, whenever Aunt Eunice opened the oven door. "And how good it seems to hear you singing like that, Flip!"
"Do you remember the day you told me that it set your teeth on edge to hear me singing that hymn?" asked Philippa, laughingly.
"Yes, but that was because I was all out of tune myself. Everything is different now. Since I've given up trying to do my own piloting, it seems to me that I come across one of His 'islands' nearly every day." As he spoke, Macklin came running up on the porch, stamping the snow from his feet, and burst into the house, his cheeks as red as winter apples.
"Here's a letter for you, Alec!" he cried. "Where's my hammer, Flip? I want to crack some of those nuts we gathered on purpose for to-day."
She brought him the hammer, and he hurried away. Alec was turning the dainty blue envelope over in his hands.
The address was written in the same hand as the card which had come nearly a year ago with the Christian Endeavour roses. He tore open the envelope, glanced at the monogram, then down the page, and turned to Philippa with a long-drawn whistle. "I wish you'd listen to this!" he exclaimed.
"Dear Mr. Stoker:—I am writing this in the hope that it will reach you on Thanksgiving Day. You have suffered so much on account of that miserable gold piece of mine, it is only fair that you should have this explanation at once.
"This afternoon Miss Cornish and I went to the church to practise a new song that I am to sing at the Thanksgiving service. She was to play my accompaniments. The side door of the church was open, for the florist was decorating the altar, so we did not need to use the minister's latch-key, which we had borrowed for the occasion. We practised for some time, and then sat and talked until it was almost dark. When we started home, we found to our dismay that the janitor, thinking we had gone, had double-locked the door for the night with his big key. Our little latch-key was then of no use.
"We called and pounded until we were desperate. I had an engagement for dinner, and could not afford to lose any time. Finally we went into the prayer-meeting room, and found that we could open one of the panes in the great stained-glass window at the side. Miss Cornish climbed up on one of those old pulpit chairs that the officers use, and said that if she could lean out through the pane, she would call to the first one who passed, and ask him to bring the janitor to our release.