Sometimes I b'lieve they're sent by the everlastin' father of brimstone,' and she--" She had reached the gate by this time, and Grace shut off the flow of conversation by closing the door.

Then she took a candle from the row on the dining-room mantel, lighted it, and went up to her own room.
Standing before the old-fashioned bureau with its little oval mirror, she hastily arranged her hair.

She did not wish to go to the prayer meeting at the chapel, but she felt that she must.

The Come-Outer gatherings, with their noisy singing and shouting, had grown more and more repugnant to her.
And to-night, of all nights! How could she meet those people who had known her since she was a child, who boasted of her as one of their staunchest adherents, who believed in her and trusted her?
How could she meet them and talk with them, knowing what she knew and realizing that they, too, would know it on the morrow?
But her uncle would miss her and be worried about her if she did not come.

She could not bear to trouble him now; she never loved him so dearly, was never so anxious to humor his every wish as on this, perhaps the last evening they would spend together.