be missed by the family. He lifted her gently from the spot where she had stood for more than seventy years, and carried her to his grandmother. The old hands stretched out toward the delicate figure, closed round it eagerly.
"If you could see the place," she said, "where I got this! Another life. Another life. Most of the English out there were down on the East, down on the Eastern religions—but I wasn't. They understand a lot that we don't. Western religions are flibbertigibbet beside Eastern religions. Don't tell that I said that! Here, take her"—she put the goddess into his hands—"something for you to remember me by."
"As though I could ever forget you, Gran!"
She smiled mockingly, and for a flash he saw, toothless and all as she was, Eden's smile on her face. "Well, time will tell. . . . Look in her face! What do you see?"
He knitted his brow, his face close to the porcelain oval of the statuette's. "Something very deep and calm. . . . I—I can't quite make it out."
"Well, well, take it along. You'll understand some day. Good-night, child, I'm tired. . . . Wait—do you often prowl about like this?"
"Sometimes."
"What do you do?"
"You won't tell on me. Gran?"
"Come, come, I'm over a hundred. Even a woman can learn to keep her mouth shut in that time!"
He said, almost in a whisper: "I go to the church, and play the organ."
She showed no surprise. "And you're not afraid alone there at night, with all the dead folk outside?"
"No."
"Ah, you're a queer boy! Music, always music with you. Well, a church is an interesting place once you get the parson and the people out of it. Real music can get in then, and a real God! Nothing flibbertigibbet about religion then."
She was very tired; her voice had become a mumble;
