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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 272 pages of information about Katherine's Sheaves.

“Come to my room this afternoon, Kathie, if you have nothing special to do; I have more questions for you.”

Katherine said she would, and, as soon as the meal was over, hastened away to prepare for church.

It was a beautiful day, and she decided to walk instead of taking a car, as usual.  She reached the hall just in season to slip into a seat before the opening hymn was given out.

When she arose with the congregation to sing, she glanced around to see if there was anyone near her whom she knew.  Her astonishment may be imagined when her eye fell upon Jennie Wild, just across the aisle from her.

The girl had also espied her and nodded a smiling and half-defiant recognition, which Katherine gravely returned.

CHAPTER XIII.

The story of A stray waif.

For a moment Katherine felt as if she were being made the target for the arrows of error from every quarter; for here was another lawless girl on her hands, and another infraction of rules which threatened to involve her in disagreeable complications.

But, after silently declaring that “evil could not make her its channel, either directly or indirectly,” she resolutely put disturbing thoughts away, determined that her mind should not be distracted from the lesson.

She did observe, however, that Jennie paid the strictest attention throughout the service, joining in the Lord’s Prayer, and in the hymns with a vigor which indicated thorough enjoyment of that portion of it.

The moment the benediction was pronounced she came directly to her and greeted her with a half-deprecatory air, but with a roguish gleam in her saucy eyes.

Katherine lingered a little to speak to some acquaintances, and also introduced her companion; then they passed out of the hall together.

“Did you have Prof.  Seabrook’s permission to come here this morning, Jennie?” Katherine inquired, when they were on the street, but feeling confident of receiving a negative reply.

Jennie took refuge in one of her comical grimaces and shrugged her plump shoulders.

“Ask me no questions and I will tell you no—­stories,” she laughingly rejoined.

“I am answered,” Katherine gravely observed.

“I don’t care.  I wanted to come, and I knew it wouldn’t do to ask the professor, after what he said to you about Christian Science,” said the girl, in self-justification, but flushing consciously beneath the look of disapproval in her companion’s eyes.  “I think the service was just lovely,” she went on, glibly.  “How happy all those people seemed—­as if there wasn’t a thing in the world to trouble them.  And that ’silent prayer’!—­it just made me think of Elijah and the ‘still small voice,’ after the tempest and the earthquake.  I was sorry when it was over.”

“I am glad you enjoyed the services, Jennie.  They are always very restful to me, and Sunday is my day to be marked with a ’white stone’ for that reason,” and there was a look of peace in the soft, brown eyes that assured Jennie of the truth of her words.

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