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By Root 963 0

the communion service, the psalms, and perhaps even the wedding service, so thoroughly mixed up that it was rather difficult to disentangle them. Mom said she didn't care, she wanted the twenty-third psalm, it was only right they should have it when the child was dead, and also there was no use telling her there would be no praying for the child's soul. What were they doing there, anyway? Mr. Pierce sharply reminded her that the burial service had nothing to do with a soul. The whole point was that the soul had already gone, and the burial was nothing but the commitment of a body. As Bert listened unhappily, Mr. Pierce kept calling on Dr. Aldous, as a sort of referee. That gentleman, listening with bowed head, presently said: "As the child wasn't baptized, certain changes will have to be made in the service anyway. Small omissions, but I'm required to make them. Now, in that case, there's no reason why the Twenty-third Psalm, and the little passage in the Communion Service that Mrs. Pierce evidently has in mind, and whatever else we want, can't be included. At the end of the service, special prayers can be, and often are, offered, and I'll be very glad to include these passages—that is, if the mother feels the need of them too."

He looked at Mildred, who nodded. At first, she had resented Mom's taking charge in this high-handed way, and felt mean remarks rising within her. Just in time, she had remembered that the Pierces were paying for everything, and kept her reflections to herself. Now she went to the children's room and packed Veda's things, so the Pierces could have her back in the morning, properly dressed. When she came out with the little suitcase, the Pierces decided it was time to go. Dr. Aldous, however, stayed a few minutes longer. Taking Mildred's hand, he said: "I've often thought the burial service could be a little more intimate, a little more satisfying to the emotions, than it is. It's quite true, as Mr. Pierce said, that it is the commitment of a body, not the consecration of a soul. Just the same, most people find it hard to make the distinction, and—to them, what they see isn't a body. It's a person, no longer alive, but still the same person, loved and terribly mourned. . . . Well, I hope I can arrange a little service that will be satisfactory to the old lady, and the mother, and father, and—everybody."

After Dr. Aldous left, Bert and Mildred were able to talk a little more naturally. She still had to make the inexorable pies, and as he kept her company in the kitchen, and even helped her where he could, he gave details of what had happened at the beach, and she reciprocated with a final version of what happened at the lake, making it correspond with Mrs. Gessler's version, though not feeling any particular desire to deceive. She merely wanted to be friendly. Bert nodded when she got to the part about Mrs. Floyd. "One hell of an end to a nice vacation."

"I didn't care what she thought. But about Ray, I could feel it, even before I got to the hospital. I knew it, even then."

When the pies were made, they sat with Ray for a time, then went back to the den. She said: "You don't have to worry about me, Bert. If Mrs. Biederhof is waiting up for you, why don't you run along?"

"She's not waiting up."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

". . . She was awfully nice."

"Mildred, can I tell you something? About what really happened Saturday?"

"Certainly."

"Mom, she was just scared, that was all. Mom was never any good in a spot like that. And me, maybe I take after her, because I was scared too. That's why, when Doc Gale began talking hospital I fell for it so quick. But Maggie, she wasn't scared. We had to stop there, on our way to the hospital, because I was stifi in my beach shorts, and I had to put on some pants. And Maggie, she raised hell about taking Ray to the hospital. She wanted to bring her right in, then and there. That's what I wanted too. It seemed a hell of a note, a poor little kid, and nobody even had a place for her. But—I didn't know how you'd feel about it."

"If