She turned to Canticles, and read a page or two.

She had always believed loyally and devoutly in the application to Christ and the Church; but suddenly now, as she read, the restrained decorously chanting New England love-song in her maiden heart had leaped into the fervid measures of the oriental King.

She shut the Bible with a clap.

"I ain't giving the right meaning to it," she said, sternly, aloud.
She put away the Bible, went into the pantry, and got out some bread and cheese for her luncheon, but she could eat nothing.

She picked the apple blossoms and arranged them in the copper-gilt pitcher on the best-room table.