Yet that sensuous beauty which the Quaker Society was so concerned to banish from any part in their life was playing upon them now, making the hearts of the women beat fast, thrilling them, turning meditation into dreams, and giving the sight of the eyes far visions of pleasure.

So powerful was this influence that the shrill Elder twice essayed to speak in protest, but was prevented by the wizened Elder Meacham.

When it seemed as if the aching, throbbing sweetness must surely bring denunciation, David changed the music to a slow mourning cadence.

It was a wail of sorrow, a march to the grave, a benediction, a soft sound of farewell, floating through the room and dying away into the mid-day sun.
There came a long silence after, and David sat with unmoving look upon the distant prospect through the window.

A woman's sob broke the air.
Faith's handkerchief was at her eyes.