Maggie! His eyes rested upon her.Her face suddenly struck him as being of extraordinary beauty.He had never thought her beautiful before; very plain, of course.Every one knew that she was plain.
But to-day her face and profile had the simplicity, the purity, the courage of a Madonna in one of the old pictures--or, rather, of one of those St.John the Baptist boys gazing up into the face of the Christ--child as it lay in its mother's arms.He finished the "Confession" hurriedly--Maggie's face faded from his view; he saw now only a garden of hats and heads, the bright varnished colour of the church around and about them all.
He gave out the psalms; there was a rustle of leaves, and soon shrill, untrained voices of the choir-boys were screaming the chant like a number of baby steam-whistles in competition.