said Mr. Keith, "do you know that little Mary Chetwood is seriously ill?"
"No, I did not, I'll put on my bonnet and go over there at once."
"Mother," said Mildred, "I've been thinking it would be nice to lend one of these books to Effie Prescott. I do not know her at all intimately, but Claudina says she is very intelligent and fond of reading, and in such poor health that she is often too miserably weak and ill to do anything but read."
"Certainly! she must have the reading of every book in the house, if she wishes, and will not abuse them."
"Claudina says she is always very careful of those she lends her, and very glad to get them. She's a lovely Christian, too, and very patient under her trials."
"Yes; I have been pleased with the little I have seen of her. I believe I owe Mrs. Prescott a call; so I shall take their house on my way to the squire's and carry a book with me."
Mrs. Keith found Mrs. Prescott out, the invalid girl lying back in a large rocking chair, and Damaris Drybread seated, in her accustomed bolt upright fashion, directly opposite.
At sight of Mrs. Keith, Effie started up in nervous haste and trepidation, to offer her hand and then a chair.
"Never mind, dear child, I will help myself," said the lady, pressing the trembling hand tenderly in hers. "How are you to-day?"
"About as usual, thank you; which is neither very sick nor very well," the girl answered with a faint smile, sinking back again, breathing short and hard.
"Now don't talk so; you look very well," remarked Miss Drybread in a cold, hard tone. "Just make up your mind that there's nothing much the matter, and you're not going to give up to the hypo, and ten to one it won't be long till you find yourself well enough."
Tears sprang to Effie's eyes, for she was both nervous and sensitive to the last degree.
"I know I look well," she said. "I'm not thin, and I have a good color; but it's often brightest when I feel the worst. And I've tried to believe my sickness was all imagination, but I can't; it's too real."
"No, Effie, you do not look well," said Mrs. Keith; "that brilliant bloom hardly belongs to health, and your eyes are heavy, your countenance is distressed."
"Of course she'll wear a distressed countenance as long as she imagines she's sick," observed the schoolma'am severely. "And you, Mrs. Keith, are only making matters worse by talking in that way."
"Not so," said the sick girl, "such kind sympathy does me good. Oh, thank you a thousand times!" as Mrs. Keith put "Dunallan" into her hands. "I shall enjoy it so much, and will be very careful of it, and return it soon. I read it years ago and liked it exceedingly, and it will be new to me now. Grace Kennedy is such a sweet writer; what a pity she died so early!"
"A novel!" sniffed Damaris. "If you are really sick you oughtn't to read anything but the Bible."
"The teachings of this book are so fully in accord with those of the Scriptures, that I can not think it will hurt her," said Mrs. Keith.
"I love the Bible," said Effie, "I never could do without it; its words often come to me when I am sad and suffering and are 'sweeter than honey and the honeycomb,' but reading other good books seems like talking with a Christian friend, and refreshes me in the same way."
At this moment Mrs. Prescott came in and greeting the two callers with a pleasant "Good afternoon," sat down to chat with them.
The talk presently turned upon their gardens, and Mrs. Prescott invited the visitors to walk out and look at hers.
Mrs. Keith accepted the invitation, but Miss Drybread said she would just sit with Effie till they came back.
"Aren't you teaching now, Miss Damaris?" asked the girl, as the others left the room.
"No, I've closed my school for a couple of weeks to do my spring sewing."
"It was kind in you to take time to call to see me when you are always so busy."
"I try to attend to every duty," returned the schoolma'am, with a sanctimonious air "and I felt that I had a duty to perform here. I've been thinking a good deal about you, Effie; trying to find out why your afflictions are sent; and I've concluded that it's as a punishment for your sins, and that when you repent and reform, your health will be better.
"You know Christians (and I really hope you're one; I know you belong to the church) won't have any punishment in the other world; so they have to take it in this, and so, as I said, I've been considering about you, and I think if you thought better of Brother Smith and enjoyed his sermons and prayers and talks in the meetin's, 'twould be better for you.
"He's a good Christian and so you'd ought to like what he says, and be his friend with other folks that isn't inclined to listen to him."
"He may be a Christian; I hope he is," returned Effie, "though it is very difficult for me to realize that a man has much true love to Christ and for souls, when his tone and manner are utterly indifferent and business like (or perhaps that isn't quite the right word; for men generally show some interest in their business).
"Besides it requires other things in addition to conversion to fit a man for teaching; he must have knowledge and the ability to impart it.
"I have nothing against Mr. Smith personally, but he does not instruct me, does not give me any food for thought, or help me on my way to heaven. So I felt it my duty to object to having him become my pastor. But I haven't been going about slandering him, and don't know why you come and talk to me in this way.
"It strikes me, too, that you are the last person to do it—as I have heard you say far harder things of other ministers than ever I've said of him."
An angry flush rose in the sallow cheek of the spinster at that.
"I've tried to do my duty always," she said, bridling. "I've never indulged in any vanities of dress; but that's been one of your sins, Effie Prescott; bows and even flowers and feathers on your bonnets, and knots of bright ribbon at your throat and in your hair. It's sinful and you may depend you'll be afflicted till you'll give up and be consistent in all things."
"I know better than you can tell me, that I deserve all I suffer and a great deal more," said the girl humbly, tears gathering in her eyes; "but for all that I don't believe you are right. You are a Job's comforter, and God reproved those men for talking so to him.
"And don't you remember what Jesus said about trying to take the mote out of your brother's eye while there is a beam in your own?"
"I see its time for me to go," said Damaris, rising.
She stood a moment looking at Effie, her lips compressed, her face white and her eyes ablaze with rage.
"There's no Christian spirit about you," she hissed, "you don't like faithful dealing; you don't want to be told of your sins. Very well, Miss, I wash my hands of you; I shake off the dust of my feet against you."
And with arms folded on her breast and head erect, she stalked out of the house, leaving the invalid girl quivering from head to foot with nervous excitement and distress, crying and laughing hysterically.
"Oh dear! oh dear!" she sighed to herself. "I haven't behaved in
