dress, listening to the song. Fear in the heart. She considered herself. Did she have fear in her heart? Yes, she recognized a kind of dread of the days that were before her. Not fear of anything tangible, perhaps, but fear of gossip, criticism, prying eyes. Fear of having to face all that would come in the wake of that wedding that was hers and yet was not. Fear of a drab future, a long lonely way ahead, no home of her own. She could never have a home of her own now, nor anyone to care for her and enjoy life with her. For she would never dare trust a man again, even if she ever found one whom she could love.
“When I have sin in-ah my heart—”
piped up Lutie joyously,
“What can take it away?
Only Jesus in-ah my heart
Can take that sin away.”
Sherrill was not especially interested in sin. She had never considered herself to be much of a sinner, and her thoughts wandered idly, considering her own case more than the song as she listened to the lilt of Lutie’s voice in the closing verse:
“When I have Jesus in-ah my heart,
What can take Him away?
Once take Jesus into my heart
And He has come to stay!”
There was a pause in the singing and the sound of voices in the hall. Thomas, the house servant, had come up to get the rugs to give them a good cleaning in the backyard. Lutie was demurring, but finally tapped hesitantly at Sherrill’s door.
Sherrill in her negligee opened the door.
“Miss Sherrill, Thomas was wanting to get your rug for cleaning, but I guess you aren’t ready yet, are you? I wasn’t sure whether you were in your room or not.”
“That’s all right, Lutie,” said Sherrill, stepping through into the next room where the girl was at work. “Tell him to go in and take it. I can finish without a rug.”
Sherrill went to the guest room bureau and began to arrange her hair, and Lutie came back after helping the man roll up the rug.
“That’s a curious song you were singing, Lutie,” said Sherrill pleasantly. “Where in the world did you get it? It sounds like a spiritual.”
“I don’t guess it is, Miss Sherrill,” said the girl, pausing in her dusting. “I got it down to our Bible class. It is pretty words, isn’t it? I like that part about Jesus taking your sorrow away. I sing it a lot.”
“But you’ve never had any sorrow, Lutie,” said Sherrill wistfully, eyeing the girl’s round rosy cheeks and happy eyes.
“Oh, Miss Sherrill, you don’t know,” said Lutie, sobering suddenly. “I’ve had just a lot! First my mother got awful sick for two whole years, and then when she got better my sister just older’n I died. And my little brother has hurt his hip, and they don’t think he’ll ever walk again.”
“Oh, Lutie,” cried Sherrill in dismay, “that is a lot of trouble!”
“Oh, but that’s not all,” said the girl, drawing a deep sigh. “My dad got some steel filings in his eye about nine months ago, and they think he’s going blind, and now they’ve laid him off the job, so my brother Sam and I are the only ones working, except Mother now and then when she can get a washing to do. And our house is all mortgaged up, and the bank closed last week where we had our money saved to pay the interest, and now we’ll maybe lose the house; and Mother needs an operation, only she can’t stop working to go to the hospital. And”—the girl caught her lip between her little white teeth to hold it from trembling, and Sherrill could see that there were tears in her eyes—“and—then—my boyfriend got mad and started going with another girl because I wouldn’t run off and get married and leave the family in all that mess!”
The big tears rolled out now, and down her round cheek, and Lutie caught a corner of her apron and brushed them hastily away.
“Excuse me, Miss Sherrill,” she said huskily. “It just sometimes gets me—”
“You poor dear child!” said Sherrill, putting down her hairbrush and coming over toward her. “Why, you poor kid, you! I never dreamed you could have all that to bear! And yet you could sing a song like that!” She regarded the girl earnestly. “You certainly are brave! But Lutie, you know a boyfriend that would do a thing like that isn’t worth crying after.” Sherrill said it and suddenly knew