Dr. Lavendar's People

in the brick basement of her

eboard there were two decanters (empty) and a silver-wire cake-basket which held always three apples. Both rooms looked out on the garden-the garden and, in fine weather, Mr. David Baily! ... Ah, me-what it was, in the dreary stretches of mental arithmetic, to look across the flower-beds and see Mr. David-tall and dark and melancholy-pacing up and down, sometimes with a rake, oftener with empty hands; always with vague, beautiful eyes fixed on some inner vision of heart-broken memory. Miss Ellen's pupils were confide

arly blind," the girls told each other with great satisfaction. After that he tried one occupation after another, but somehow failed in each; which was proof of a delicacy of constitution i

istant book-keeper; and David, after innumerable tangles on his balance-sheet, was obliged to say, frankly, that he had no head for figures. But he was willing to do anything else-"any honest work that is not menial," he said, earnestly. And Tom said, why, yes, of course, only he'd be darned if

rs. Dilworth. And Thomas stared at

t," Miss Ellen told the sympathetic older girls, who glanced sideways at Mr.

him never troubled the romantic souls of Miss Ellen's pupils any more than it troubled Miss Ellen-or Mr. David. "Why shouldn't she?" the girls would have demanded if any such rudely practical question had been asked; "he is so delicate, and he has a broken heart!" So that was how it happ

been teaching f

irls who had travelled and seen the lighted streets of towns knew what gas was), nor that rubbing a cat's fur the wrong way in the dark would produce electric sparks-such things were not necessary. But they were interesting, and, as Mrs. Barkley said, if they did not go too far and lead to scepticism, they would do no harm. However, Miss Ellen counteracted any sceptical tendencies by reading aloud, every Saturday morning, Bishop Cummings on the Revelation, so that even Dr. Lavendar was not wiser than Miss Ellen's girls as

was a third. And poor, uneducated folk (compared with our daughters) that we of Old Chester may be, we are, if I mistake not, glad that we were taught a certain respect for our own language, which, though it makes the tongue of you

e the winter of Dr. Lavendar's illness, and the temporary instalment of the Reverend Mr. Spangler,

by Sam Wright; and the day before he started Mr. Spangler appeared. That

ooner," said

said. "Home is the best place to be sick in. The truth is, Willy King doesn't want me to

ve it," he said. "I'm a dogmatic old fogy, and I won't let the new people have their jimcrackery; and I preach old sermons, and I've had a cold in my head for three months. And yet, look at 'em: A purse, if you please! And Sam Wr

Lavendar talked; but he sighed once or twice, patiently, for the old man was not very helpful. Mr. Spangler wanted to know what Sunday

long ago," said Dr. Lavendar. "Don't

nd in regard to methods; firmness is, I think, a clergyman's duty, and duty, I hope, is m

to do so," said Dr.

ealize the value of our modern ways of dealing with a parish-I mean in regard to firmly carrying out o

said Dr. Lavendar

hat the parish is perhaps a little old-fashioned in regard to matters

r a pea-jacket if it helps you to preach the Word. I

that; and when he smiled one saw t

he shabby rectory. His iron will led him to preach in his surplice, and it was observed that a silver cross dangled from his black silk fob. "But it's only for ten weeks," sai

t at least he made no objections to the cross; and he certainly brightened up when, on Saturday afternoon, Mr. Spangler called. He even talked of Gambier, to which he had gone for a year, and of which, it appeared, the clergyman was an alumnus. Miss Ellen had a pile of compositions on the table beside her, and she glanced at one occasionally so that she might not seem to expect any share in the conversation. But, all

ter David had gone to bed, she went over t

aily came into the circle of lamplight by the parlor-table

ne," Miss Baily protes

"Oh, well; it doesn't really matter; there are only nine more Sundays.

it before he went away," E

I suppose it's all right. But he's not a very active

"nothing except that he

ugh to live on in a small way; so he likes supplying better than takin

a charge where he cou

lying, just enough to buy him his ridiculous buttoned-up coats. That's what he likes. I suppose he uses the same old sermons over and over. Doesn't ever have to write a new one. However, he's here, and maybe Old Chester will do him good. Elle

present when she goes awa

her husband's brother gives her. He's a school-teacher, I understand; and y

llen s

ef to Harriet-(she isn't well, that girl; I'm really uneasy about her). And I guess the Smily woman won't object to Old Chester food, eith

im so much," M

o all the talking. I seem to do that sometimes. Did you ever notice, Ellen, that the truth always hurts people's feelings? But I knew his mo

atefully. David was not oft