GARTH FINDS THE CROSS The village church on the green was bathed in sunshine as Jane emerged from the cool shade of the park.

The clock proclaimed the hour half-past eleven, and Jane did not hasten, knowing she was not expected until twelve.

The windows of the church were open, and the massive oaken doors stood ajar.
Jane paused beneath the ivy-covered porch and stood listening.

The tones of the organ reached her as from an immense distance, and yet with an all-pervading nearness.

The sound was disassociated from hands and feet.