During the service Geraldine Vane, on her raised seat in the choir, turned and looked into the steel-gray eyes of Dr. Eldrige, Jr., who occupied a pew in front. It was but a flash, a passing glance, but the color deepened in her cheeks regardless of her endeavor to keep her attention on the pastor's words, and there came to her again something of the great difficulty of life's problems.
After the service Max Morrison joined her near the door and she stood beside him, bewitching in her Easter gown, and about her the sweet incense of the lilies she carried.
Then she became aware of another presence and looked again into the eyes of young Dr. Eldrige. But she read no friendly greeting there; the recognition was cold and formal and he passed on out of the church.
The warning that Mrs. Mayhew's words contained had assumed dimensions gigantic in Geraldine's mind, while their palliative qualities robbed her of all sense of proportion. A half-suspicion possessed her, a harrowing doubt assailed her; many questions besieged her and she found herself in a state far from conducive to a peaceful state of mind or a tranquil spirit. But she walked down the street beside the tall figure of Max Morrison and she held her head proudly and endeavored to still the contending voices within her.
Mr. Thorpe felt a keen sense of satisfaction as he descended the church steps and took his way homeward. The service had been all that he could desire. No doubt there would be mention made of it in the papers during the week and it would give his church an enviable reputation. But this elation, gratifying as it was for the time, was doomed to be short-lived; before the day was done there was a reaction. The spirit of worship had waned and left a sense of chill and despondency. Mrs. Thorpe noticed the droop of her husband's shoulders, the worn look on his face, and her heart cried out against whatever it might be that gave him pain.
The Easter sun sank behind the tree-tops and its last rays lay warm and tender over the church and parsonage and over the meanest hovel on the Flat. Great Illuminator which seeks not the place of its shining and respects not one person above another--typical of the love of God.
CHAPTER X
THE DISCERNMENT OF TRUTH
Mrs. Thorpe was sitting one day in the familiar seat by the window, and her thoughts were centered on the conditions about her. Outside the vine was putting forth new buds and tender leaves; a bird on a swinging bough was singing his mating song; the grass was growing green on the incline that led up to the church. The winter had not destroyed the heart and life of that which it had blasted outwardly, and Nature was emerging into newness of life.
A world of growing things, abundant, forceful, alive, are springing from the brown, fructuous earth; spring is pregnant, alive with a power beyond human conception. Boundless, limitless, infinite Power!