Amarilly of Clothes-line Alley

"It was fer him--fer Mr. St. John I done it," she began in explanation,

and then she proceeded to relate the particulars of her scheme and its

accomplishment.

She had but just finished this narrative when suddenly in the line of

her vision came the form of the young rector himself. He had been

ushered out by the Boarder, who was still actively engaged in "redding

up."

"I came to call upon you, for I consider you one of my parishioners

now," he said to Amarilly, his face flushing at the unexpected encounter

with Colette.

Amarilly breathed a devout prayer of thankfulness that the last surplice

had been removed and was now being put to soak by her mother.

Colette's eyes were dancing with the delight of mischief-making as she

directed, in soft but mirthful tones: "Tell Mr. St. John about your choir and concert."

Amarilly's eyes lowered in consternation. She was in great awe of this

young man whose square chin was in such extreme contradiction to his

softly luminous eyes, and she began to feel less fortified by the

reminder of the "cause."

"I'd ruther not," she faltered.

"Then don't, Amarilly," he said gently.

"Mebby that's why I'd orter," she acknowledged, lifting serious eyes to

his. "You said that Sunday that we wa'n't to turn out of the way fer

hard things."

"I don't want it to be hard for you to tell me anything, Amarilly," he

said reassuringly. "Suppose you show me that you trust me by telling me

about your concert."

So once more Amarilly gave a recital of her plan for raising money for

the mission, and of its successful fulfilment. John listened with

varying emotions, struggling heroically to maintain his gravity as he

heard of the realization of the long-cherished, long-deferred dream of

Mrs. Hudgers.

"And we took in thirty-seven cents," she said in breathless excitement,

as she handed him the contents of the pie tin.

"Amarilly," he replied fervently, with the look that Colette was

learning to love, "you did just right to use the surplices, and this

contribution means more to me than any I have received. It was a sweet

and generous thought that prompted your concert."

Amarilly's little heart glowed with pride at this acknowledgment.

At that moment came Bud, singing a snatch of his solo.

"Is this the little brother that sang the offertory?"

"Yes; that's him--Bud."

"Bud, will you sing it again for me, now?"