Diana. Warner Susan

sermons was about; I don't believe as he knew himself. Now, a minister had ought to know what he means, whether any one else does or not, and I like a minister that makes me know what he means."

      "Why, Mrs. Boddington," said Mrs. Flandin, "I didn't know as you cared anything about religion, one way or another."

      "I've got to go to church, Mrs. Flandin; and I'd a little rayther be kep' awake while I'm there without pinching my fingers. I'd prefer it."

      "Why, has anybody got to go to church that doesn't want to go?" inquired Diana. But that was like a shell let off in the midst of the sewing circle.

      "Hear that, now!" said Mrs. Boddington. "Ain't that a rouser!" Mrs. Boddington was a sort of a cousin, and liked the fun; she lived in the one farm-house in sight of Mrs. Starling's.

      "She don't mean it," said Mrs. Mansfield.

      "Trust Di Starling for meaning whatever she says," returned the other.

      "You and I mayn't understand it, but that's all one, you know."

      "But what do she mean?" said Mrs. Salter.

      "Yes, what's the use o' havin' a church, ef folks ain't goin' to it?" said Mrs. Carpenter.

      "No," said Diana, laughing; "I only asked why any one must go, if he don't want to? Where's the must?"

      "When we had good Mr. Hardenburgh, for example," chimed in Mrs. Boddington, "who was as loggy as he could be; good old soul! and put us all to sleep, or to wishin' we could. My! hain't I eaten quarts o' dill in the course o' the summer, trying to keep myself respectably awake and considerin' o' what was goin' on! Di says, why must any one eat all that dill that don't want to?"

      "Cloves is better," suggested Miss Gunn.

      Some laughed at this; others looked portentously grave.

      "It's just one o' Di's nonsense speeches," said her mother; "what they mean I'm sure I don't know. She reads too many books to be just like other folks."

      "But the books were written by other folks, mother."

      "La! some sort, child. Not our sort, I guess."

      "Hain't Di never learned her catechism?" inquired Mrs. Flandin.

      "Is there anything about going to church in it?" asked the girl.

      "There's most all sorts o' good things in it," answered vaguely Mrs. Flandin, who was afraid of committing herself. "I thought Di might ha' learned there something about such a thing as we call duty."

      "That's so," said Mrs. Mansfield.

      "Just what I am asking about," said Di. "That's the thing. Why is it duty, to go to church when one don't want to go?"

      "Well, I'm sure it was time we had a new minister," said Mrs Salter; "and I'm glad he's come. If he's no better than old Mr. Hardenburgh, it'll take us a spell to find it out; and that'll be so much gained. He don't look like him any way."

      "He is different, ain't he?" assented Mrs. Boddington. "If we wanted a change, we've got it. How did you all like his sermon last Sabbath?"

      "He was very quiet – " said Mrs. Flandin.

      "I like that," said Diana. "When a man roars at me, I never can tell what he is saying."

      "He seemed to kind o' know his own mind," said Mrs. Salter.

      "I thought he'd got an astonishin' knowledge o' things in the town, for the time he's had," said Mrs. Mansfield.

      "I wisht he had a family," remarked Miss Gunn; "that's all I've got agin him. I think a minister had allays ought to have a family."

      "He will, – let him alone a while," said Mrs. Boddington. "Time enough.

      Who have we got in town that would do for him?"

      The fruitful topic of debate and discussion here started, lasted the ladies for some time. Talk and business got full under weigh. Scissors and speeches, clipping and chattering, knitting and the interminable yarn of small talk. The affairs, sickness and health, of every family in the neighbourhood, with a large discussion of character and prospects by the way; going back to former history and antecedents, and forward to future probable consequences and results. Nuts of society; sweet confections of conversation; of various and changing flavour; suiting all palates, and warranted never to cloy. Then there were farm prospects and doings also, with household matters; very interesting to the good ladies, who all had life interest in them; and the hours moved on prosperously. Here a rocking-chair tipped gently back and forward, in harmony with the quiet business enjoyment of its occupant; and there a pair of heels, stretched out to the farthest limit of their corresponding members, with toes squarely elevated in the air, testified to the restful condition of another individual of the party. See a pair of toes in the air and the heels as nearly as possible straight under them, one tucked up on the other, and you may be sure the person they belong to feels comfortable – physically. And Mrs. Starling in a corner, in her quiet state and black-silk gown, was as contented as an old hen that sees all her chickens prosperously scratching for themselves. And the June afternoon breathed in at the window and upon all those busy talkers; and nobody knew that it was June. So things went, until Diana left them to put the finishing touches of readiness to the tea-table. Her going was noticed by some of the assembly, and taken as a preparatory note of the coming entertainment; always sure to be worth having and coming for in Mrs. Starling's house. Needles and tongues took a fresh stir.

      "Mis' Starling, are we goin' to hev' the minister?" somebody asked.

      "I don't know as anybody has told him, Mis' Mansfield."

      "Won't seem like a meetin', ef we don't hev' him."

      "He's gone down to Elmfield," said Miss Gunn. "He went down along in the forenoon some time. Gone to see his cousin, I s'pose."

      "They've got their young soldier home to Elmfield," said Miss Barry. "I s'pect they're dreadful sot up about it."

      "They don't want that," said Mrs. Boddington. "The Knowltons always did carry their heads pretty well up, in the best o' times; and now Evan's got home, I s'pose there'll be no holding 'em in. There ain't, I guess, by the looks."

      "What'll he do now? stay to hum and help his gran'ther?"

      "La! no. He's home just for a visit. He's got through his education at the Military Academy, and now he's an officer; out in the world; but he'll have to go somewhere and do his work."

      "I wonder what work they do hev' to do?" said Mrs. Salter; "there ain't nobody to fight now, is there?"

      "Fight the Injuns," said Mrs. Boddington; "or the Mexicans; or the

      English may be; anything that comes handy."

      "But we hain't no quarrel with the English, nor nobody, hev' we? I thought we was done fightin' for the present," said Miss Barry in a disturbed tone of voice.

      "Well, suppos'n we be," said Mrs. Boddington; "somebody might give us a slap, you know, when we don't expect it, and it's best to be ready; and so, Evan Knowlton'll be one o' them that has to stand somewhere with his musket to his shoulder, and look after a lot o' powder behind him all the while."

      "Du tell! if it takes four years to learn 'em to du that," said Miss

      Babbage, the doctor's sister.

      "The Knowltons is a very fine family," remarked Miss Gunn.

      "If the outside made it," said Mrs. Boddington. "Don't they cut a shine when they come into meetin', though! They think they do."

      "It takes all the boys' attention off everything," said Mrs. Flandin, who was an elderly lady herself.

      "And the girls" – added Mrs. Starling. But what more might have been said was cut short by Miss Barry's crying out that here was the minister coming.

      CHAPTER II.

      THE NEW MINISTER

      The little stir and buzz which went round the assembly at this news was delightful. Not one but moved excitedly on her seat, and then settled herself for an unwonted good time. For the new minister was undiscovered