And in scarcely veiled language, every one present was praying for Joanna.

Joanna’s first impulse, when she realized how matters stood, was of sheer wrath. She wanted to leap up and fling out of the vestry full of praying women.

But she did not so act. She realized at once that such rudeness, while it would pain her mother, would give the highest satisfaction to Miss Gedge. Besides, what, after all, did it matter? These people could not harm her, could not prevent her from doing as she wished. She turned her head, furtively counting the bowed backs. By now, the last – the very last, surely – of the students was praying. She was a timid creature, and her shaking voice sounded sincere.

“We ask Thee,” she was saying, “that our dear young sister, with the gifts Thou hast given her, may not be among those that perish, but may enter with all joy and everlasting delight into fulness of life, both here and hereafter!”

At the words, “fullness of life” – really so sweetly spoken by the trembling young woman, – Joanna was swept by a wholly unlooked-for wave of emotion. She could do no other than make the prayer her own. But in the succeeding silence she grew cold again. The same thought was in everyone’s mind. Was not Juley going to pray?

In an icy panic, Joanna changed her own cry for life into the supplication that her mother might keep silence.

“O God, don’t let Mother pray out loud, for Jesus’ sake, Amen!” Again and again she repeated the same phrase with passionate fervour; and a huge load was lifted from her, when with a quiet rustle of skirts they all rose from their knees.

The meeting was over.

As they stood at first, silent, Joanna felt embarrassed. At her mother whose face was bathed in tears, she could not look: at Miss Gedge she would not.

So she gazed steadfastly at the shy girl who had last prayed.

“Thank you,” she said at length, the first to speak. And she moved nearer to where the other stood. “I liked your prayer, and I hope it will be answered. It was good of you to come.”

The student blushed as deeply as Joanna was blushing, but she shone as well, and a cloud came upon Eva Gedge’s face.

Joanna enjoyed a moment of pure malice. She had triumphed. Then turning to her mother she spoke loudly enough for Eva to overhear.

“I shall have to go at once, Mother,” she said. “I promised Mrs. Lovatt to call there this evening. It may be fairly late before I’m back. You musn’t wait up.”

And she was gone before a word could be said in reply.

It was already twenty minutes to eight, but Mildred’s house was not far off, and Joanna could be fleet.

III