"When do you expect your sister home Miss Zoe?"
The sun comes in slanting rays through the stained glass of the chancel window, and fell in a myriad of colored shapes, lighting up the bright trimmings of reading desk and pulpit, and softening the sombre darkness of the heavily carved doors and window frames.
"We had a letter day before yesterday; she said they were invited to join another yachting party, but did not know if she would accept. But we never can tell anything about what she intends to do. Sometimes she comes home when we least expect her."
Zoe rolls up her music, and smiles as the parson says with poorly disguised unconcern:
"It would be very beneficial to me, if she would return. When one loses such an excellent voice as your sister's out of the choir, it makes the rest sound flat."
Mr. Wimbleton proceeds to close the organ, and Zoe goes on down the choir steps; she is obliged to turn away for fear the smile she cannot conceal will offend Mr. Wimbleton, and she is certainly far from wishing to commit an offence so great as that. Zoe goes home, and in the hall, three big trunks meet her surprised eyes; she hears a musical voice talking to Aunt Adeline in the dining-room.
"It must be, it is Dolores!" she exclaims delightedly.
Yes, Dolores has returned more beautiful than ever, with a quiet, grave look, befitting the trouble for which she thought it her duty to come home and share with Zoe and aunt Adeline. Dolores was deeply pained, she put so much confidence in her father; she thought his discernment incomparable, he always stood so high in her estimation, far beyond reproach.
"My poor darling, how you must have suffered, and I enjoying myself; how utterly selfish I am." There is a mingling of tenderness and reproach in Dolores' tones.
"You foolish child, how could you do differently, when you did not know how often we wished for you? Don't blame yourself child, we will all bear it together." Aunt Adeline hates to see the pretty faces of her darlings clouded by care, and she strives to bear all the cares on her own willing shoulders.