"Leo!" his mother whispered warningly in his ear.
"What is it?"
"Stand up. It's the bidding prayer."
He dragged himself on to his feet. The voice of the superintendent came from the chancel in a subdued sing-song--
"Jesus, Bread of Life, grant that we come to this Thy table not in vain, or to the injury of our soul."
"Let us hope so," thought Leo; and a desperate doubt as to his own worthiness shot sharply through him.
The first service was over, and the stream of worshippers moved towards the doors--only the communicants stayed in their places. Felicitas kept her head buried in her prayer-book, but the rebellious little rings of gold hair on her forehead could be seen glittering through her crape veil. Ulrich seemed to be lost in deepest meditation. Then, as he met Leo's glance, his face cleared. He blinked twice with his short, tired lids, and infinite affection and confidence radiated from beneath them.
The church had emptied itself. The minister re-appeared in front of the altar, and read the prayer of invitation from a large, flat book which he moved to and fro in his hands. Then he lifted the folded serviette from the sacred vessels, which were set out on the right-hand corner of the altar.
Every one rose to draw near the Lord's table. The altar was surrounded by a balustrade covered with red baize, and at the foot there was a praying stool. Leo, without lifting his eyes, offered his arm to his mother, and walked with her, leading Elly on the other side, up the steps of the choir. Ulrich and his wife followed close behind.
Johanna and her step-daughter hung back a few paces. Hertha bit her veil and clung to her mother's arm. At the bottom step she reeled and nearly fell. They knelt down on the circular stool. To Leo's left were two vacant places, and Ulrich was on the point of taking the one next him, when at the last moment Felicitas, letting go her husband's arm, pushed herself between the two men.