hands forgotten. For once Dolly Beatty forgot to fuss with her hat or
admire her hands in the new lavender gloves two sizes too small. The
choir even forgot to flirt and yawn and never once looked bored or
superior.

Jimmy Rand, after having carefully inserted in his hymn book a copy of
Diamond Dick's latest exploits, forgot to read it. And the row of
little boys whose mothers always made them sit in the very first pew
never so much as thought of kicking each other's shins or passing a
hard pinch down the line or even quietly swapping lucky stones and fish
hooks for a snake skin or a choice piece of colored glass.

Why, it was even reported that Mert Hagley so far forgot himself as to
absent-mindedly drop a bill into the basket when it came by. Some
said, of course, that Mert was after the repair work on the old
Churchill homestead but those nearest Mert swore that this could not
be, that Mert had looked as surprised as those around him when he saw
what he had done. Green Valley laughed and said a miracle had
happened. And even Seth Curtis got curious and remarked that he had
half a mind to go and hear the boy himself, that anybody who could peel
a bill off of Mert Hagley's roll was surely a curiosity.

Cynthia's son had walked with Roger Allan through the twilight of his
first real day in Green Valley to Grandma Wentworth's cottage and the
three had sat talking until the small hours. Then Grandma had taken
Cynthia's tall son up-stairs into the large airy guest room. She came
down a little later to find Roger gazing at a framed photograph of a
long gone day.

She came and looked too at the group of young faces. At herself, then