“Pinch me, Hilary,” she whispered once, after an especially beautiful and dreamy composition, “I must be dreaming, I can’t be really here with you, and actually hearing a Symphony Orchestra!”
Hilary smiled with sympathy and squeezed Virginia’s arm affectionately.
On Sunday morning, the girls sat with the minister’s family in the pew well up to the front, where father was sure to be supported by the confidence of his family! The church was beautifully decorated and the people sat in quiet reverence as the organ began its stately prelude. There was the exquisite Christmas choir music, especially prepared for the occasion, with one or two solos from the Messiah and “O, little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie!” The sweet Christmas story was in the Scripture lesson, and a sermon followed which more than once made Virginia’s throat contract with its tender and spiritual message. She thought of her dear father, working so hard on the distant ranch, and wished that she could slip her hand into his and tell him how dearly she loved him, and she concluded that she had expected too much from the stepmother who had never known anything like this to make her thoughtful and kind. With the rest of the congregation she sang, “When Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night,” and stood quietly to listen to the last note of the Hallelujah chorus from the Messiah with which the organist closed the musical program, the people standing, then bowed their heads for the benediction.
“And you’ve listened to sermons like that and been in wonderful services all your life, Hilary?” she asked, as they walked to the parsonage.
“Yes, and I suppose I can’t really appreciate it as I ought,” said Hilary, sensing what Virginia was thinking.
“I think you do, for you certainly put to practice what you have been taught,” said Isabel. “Still, part of it must be natural, because you just have a generous nature.”
“It’s very dear of you girls to think so,” said Hilary, not a little touched, “but if there is anything good in me at all it is just because I try to keep close to the Source of goodness, and I believe all that Father preaches, even if I can’t live up to it as I ought to.”
The good Sunday dinner brought them down to earth again, and how they did enjoy it! “These chickens came from Uncle Andy Short,” Tommy informed them, as he stowed away a generous slice of the breast.
“O, is he the one that sent or gave your mother the chickens that were in your famous birthday box last year?” asked Isabel of Hilary.
“Yes, and he’s sent us two turkeys for Christmas. He was so disappointed when Father went away, but he and his wife have promised to visit us,—”