During this and succeeding evenings of narration, it must not be supposed I sat silent, making no remarks upon what I heard; but, in fact, what I said was of hardly any importance, and certainly not worth introducing into this account of Mr. Crowder’s experiences.  But the effect of his words upon Mrs. Crowder, as shown both by the play of her features and her frequent questions and exclamations, interested me almost as much as the statements of my host.  I had previously known her as the gentlest, the sweetest, and the most attractive of my female acquaintances; but now I found her to be a woman of keen intellect and quick appreciation.  Her remarks, which were very frequent, and which I shall not always record, were like seasoning and spice to the narrative of Mr. Crowder.  Never before had a wife heard such stories from a husband, and there never could have been a woman who would have heard them with such religious faith.  Naturally, she showed me a most friendly confidence.  The fact that we were both the loyal disciples of one master was a bond between us.  He was so much older than either of us, and he regarded us sometimes with what looked so much like parental affection, that it would not have been surprising if persons, not believers as we were, should have entertained the idea that, in course of time, he would pass away, and that we two should be left to comfort each other as well as we might.  But I, who had heard my friend speak of the coming years, could not forget the picture he had drawn of two aged and feeble people, looked up to in love and veneration by a fresh and hearty man of fifty-three.

“Thee never seemed to have any trouble in getting married,” said Mrs. Crowder.  “Did thee ever stay an old bachelor any length of time?”

Crowder laughed.  Such questions from his wife amused him very much.

“I was thinking of changing the subject,” said he, “and was about to tell you something which had not anything to do with wives and marriages.  I thought you might be tired of that sort of thing.”

“Not at all,” said she, quickly; “that’s just what I want to hear.”

“Very well,” answered he; “I will give you a little instance of one of my failures in love-making.

“It was long before my visit to Empress Woo; in fact, it was about eleven hundred years before Christ, and I was living in Syria, where I was teaching school in the little town of Timnath.  I became very much interested in one of the girls of my class.  She was a good deal older than any of the others; in fact, she was a young woman.  She had a bright mind, and was eager to learn, and I naturally became interested in her; and in the course of time she pleased me so much that I determined to marry her.”

“It seems thee was in the habit of marrying thy scholars,” said Mrs. Crowder.

“There is nothing very strange in that,” he replied; “a schoolmaster usually becomes very well acquainted with some of his scholars, and if a girl pleases him very much it is not surprising that he should prefer to marry her, or, at least, to try to, than to go out among comparative strangers to look for a wife.”