nal would draw back. Why do even we who sit here speak as we have been speaking with hushed and lowered voices?—that very sense of a presence unseen around us, that hovers over us, is a mightier safeguard than the strongest bolts and locks, than the steel-barred vaults of any bank. It would seem indeed to profane our own faith even to entertain such an idea—to me this place is a solemn shrine, and there is only purity and faith and stillness here, the dwelling place of a power as compassionate as it is mighty."
Madison stopped abruptly—and a silence fell. Each seemed busy with their own thoughts. About them was quiet, stillness, peace—twilight was falling, and a soft, mellow light was in the room.
"No one would dare"—the words came from Mrs. Thornton in almost breathless corroboration, almost of their own accord it seemed, as though heavy upon her lay the solemnity of her surroundings.
Madison's hand went to his pocket—slowly he drew out his check-book and laid it upon the table.
"I am not a rich man"—his voice was very low, very earnest—"but I feel that this is something deeper, grander, bigger than anything the world perhaps has ever known before; something higher and above one's own self; it seems as though here were the chrysalis that, once developed to its perfect state, would sweep pain and sorrow from suffering humanity; it is as though
