“Why not?” asked Stella.
“I don’t know, I have thought of it,” he answered, and the subject dropped.
One afternoon Stella, wrapped in thick cloaks, was seated in the chancel of the Dead Church attending to the instrument which stood upon the stone altar. Morris had not wished her to go that morning, for the weather was very coarse, and snow threatened; but, anticipating a visit from Mr. Layard, she insisted, saying that she should enjoy the walk. Now the experiments were in progress, and going beautifully. In order to test the aerophones fully in this rough weather, Morris and Stella had agreed to read to each other alternate verses from the Book of Job, beginning at the thirty-eighth chapter.
“‘Canst thou bind the sweet influences of Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion?’” read Stella presently in her rich, clear voice.
Instantly from two miles away came the next verse, the sound of those splendid words rolling down the old church like echoes of some lesson read generations since.
“‘Canst thou bring forth Mazzaroth in his season, or canst thou guide Arcturus with his sons?’”
So it went on for a few more verses, till just as the instrument was saying, “‘Who hath put wisdom in the inward parts, or who hath given understanding to the heart?’” the rude door in the brick partition opened, admitting a rush of wind and—Stephen Layard.
The little man sidled up nervously to where Stella was sitting on a camp-stool by the altar.
“How do you do?” said Stella, holding out her hand, and looking surprised.
“How do you do, Miss Fregelius? What—what are you doing in this dreadfully cold place on such a bitter day?”