EASTERTIDE
The Reverend Maurice Thorpe had not been so successful in his work as he had hoped to be; not so successful as the beginning of his pastorate had promised. Of late he felt that his work was falling below par. The fine touch, the artistic setting, the convincing logic that had once been his were slipping from him. He could not feel that his ardor had cooled nor his interest waned, but his faculties seemed to have lost their keenness and his tongue its cunning. His health was not up to the desired standard and his wife's illness had been a severe strain upon him. There had been a time when he felt that there was nothing left in this world for him unless his wife regained her physical and mental powers. Now he felt that perhaps he had not been properly reconciled to the will of Providence, and he prayed for greater grace and threw himself heart and soul into his work and resolved to regain, if possible, that which he had lost.
At his request special preparations were made for an elaborate Easter service. He wished this to be a service that would arouse the people, something that would interest them and induce them to come again. The music has so much to do with the success of the modern church that the pastor planned always to keep in touch with his choir. The song service must be fitted to the sermon, either to emphasize the beauty of the text, or else to soften and subdue the undressed truth which must sometimes be spoken.
Geraldine Vane was a capable and willing worker in the choir. The plans for the Easter service were arranged, the parts assigned and the practicing began.
In this work Geraldine and Max Morrison were thrown much together. There were some disreputable stories afloat about the man's character, but no one seemed to regard them very seriously; and his voice was so great an attraction that the choir was glad of his help.
When on his way to choir practice Max had fallen into the way of calling for Geraldine, and he often spent an evening in the Mayhew home. And as time passed he began to feel more than a casual interest in this girl with the shell-tinted face and golden hair. The Mayhew children, too, amused and interested him. He liked to talk to them, to ask them questions, and hear their naive answers and innocent speeches.
During the winter his acquaintance with Geraldine had ripened into a more intimate friendship. Their love for music and their proficiency in the art formed a bond between them. Geraldine, a veritable St. Cecelia, her figure swaying with the rhythm of the music as her fingers flew over the ivory keys, and Max with his bow calling forth the sweet, weird melody of the violin, would feel their pulses quicken as the blended melodies throbbed and sighed and quivered.
It was at this time that Dr. Eldrige Jr. condemned the woman he had loved from her girlhood and stepped aside and gave his rival possession of the field. Fine and true to the heart's core himself, he would not seek nor desire the love of a woman who demanded less than this in manhood. Nor was it in his nature to wage a warfare for a woman's love. This priceless, this sacred thing, must come, if at all, freely and naturally as the beauty and fragrance of nature comes to waiting earth.
During the preparation for the Easter service Max and Geraldine were thrown together even more man usual. And it was at this time that Mrs. Mayhew felt an indefinite fear, a vague alarm concerning their friendship. She went to her husband with her half-formed conjecture.
Mr. Mayhew was a practical man of affairs, shrewd and sagacious.